Vacation
by saavik55
Summary: Alex and Olivia take a special vacation to a resort that's a little off the beaten track. This is their story. Warning: BDSM, femslash and all that jazz
1. Chapter 1

Brutally stuffing her gasps and whimpers back down her throat, Olivia clung to the bedpost with cuffed hands. Her body was jerked to one side, the tug and resulting sensation of tightness informing her that her mistress had just secured the final leather strap of the Milwaukee brace that compressed her waist and immobilized her spine. It was a torturous contraption of leather, steel and custom-molded plastic, a throwback to the cruelty of mid-twentieth century medical science and a device that elicited whistles of awe and admiration on each of the rare occasions Alex allowed her pet to be seen wearing it.

For her part, Olivia felt a twinge of fear whenever she laid eyes on the brace; even in private, Alex only brought it out of the closet for very special reasons. And when Olivia first felt the cold metal tip her chin back until the base of her skull pressed against the steel ring, her heart always skipped in terror. By the time the last strap was buckled into place, however, Olivia had sunk deep into her soothing submission without fail. This particular instance was not proving to be an exception to the rule. Once Alex relaxed the tension, Olivia let go of the wooden post and allowed her hands to fall to her waist, relaxing heavily into the comfort of her enforced and willing slavery. She waited, still and silent, for her mistress's instructions.

Instantly, Alex's hands seemed to be all over her body, digging probing fingers between leather straps and her slave's thighs, chest and throat and rattling the chains linking Olivia's ankles and wrists. Nodding in satisfaction, Alex rose to her feet and cupped Olivia's cheeks in her palms. She brushed the pads of her thumbs over Olivia's cheekbones, lavishing attention on some of the last flesh she had left exposed. Not that it would remain that way for long, Alex smirked to herself. But, before the real fun could begin, Alex had to be sure her beloved pet would be alright.

She smiled gently, momentarily discarding her stern mistress's act. "Do you feel alright?" she asked seriously. Olivia blinked once, giving their agreed-upon signal for yes. "Is anything too tight?" Olivia blinked twice. Alex let her mask of authority drop back into place and withdrew her tender caress. Adeptly, she pinned the end of Olivia's black headscarf across her pet's face, leaving only her dark eyes visible. Alex grinned fiercely, the proud expression of a woman who owned something fine and highly enviable.

"Eyes down," she snapped, turning on her heel and striding from the room, secure in her knowledge that Olivia had obeyed and would follow in her proper place. She had made it clear already that Olivia's good behavior was very important to her mistress tonight, the first night of their much-needed vacation. Alex wanted to put Olivia through her paces, to test how well she had trained her faithful pet and, if the opportunity arose, push Olivia through some of the fantasies she had whispered in the dark. It was important to get off to a good start.

It had taken Alex many hours of careful research to plan this trip. She had to ensure that they would come to a safe place, a place where no harm or humiliation would come to her or, more importantly, to Olivia. The brunette placed an immense amount of trust into Alex's care. It was her responsibility to keep her pet from injury of any kind and she regarded that responsibility with the utmost seriousness. That was why she had spent so long on her extensive background checks and reference reviews of the business and its employees before booking their time at this resort.

Composed of a small compound of bright cottages, it was situated on a parcel of tree-shaded land one hundred miles outside of Montreal. It was peaceful and secluded, protected by acres of forest and security cameras installed along the only driveway to deter nosy neighbors. The owner, a mistress in a committed relationship with her male submissive, was sharply sensitive to her clientele's requirements for privacy. After all, the fetishes practiced by her guests were easily and commonly interpreted by outsiders as abuse. That wasn't to say that she condoned abuse or allowed the law to be broken on the premises. As far as Alex could discern from her research, the exact opposite was closer to the truth. Offenders were ejected, warned not to return and, if needed, reported to the local police. Alex appreciated this and she also appreciated that each couple was afforded the privacy of their own cottage for the duration. There were more public play spaces available, though Alex doubted she'd take advantage, and a communal dinner was offered each evening. But, should they choose to do so, Alex and Olivia could lock themselves in and never see another soul until they checked out. Alex approved of the seclusion but decided that, for some variety, she and Olivia would attend dinner their first night. She was hungry and she had already spent much of the evening adorning her pet with all of her favorite toys. She didn't want to have wasted her effort.

So she strolled along the dark sidewalk that led from their cottage to the central building, enjoying the cool evening air and the rapid beat of her slave's forcibly hobbled steps. Sensing that Olivia was struggling to keep up, Alex slowed her pace and slipped her hand underneath the brace's bowed steel rod to press against the small of Olivia's back. For a few moments at least, Alex would grant her obedient girlfriend the privilege of walking alongside her mistress. The pleasure would sustain her pet through dinner when she would have to maintain perfect compliance and composure if she wanted to please Alex. Stepping aside, Alex waited for Olivia to hold the door for her. She breezed in and paused to allow her pet to catch up before entering the dining room.

As in the cottages, the décor was simple and bright, serving as a counterpoint to the dark and varied outfits of the occupants. Alert to all of her pet's movements, Alex felt Olivia creep close behind her, brushing against her arm as all eyes focused on them. Alex was well aware of Olivia's shyness when revealed as a submissive in public. She kept her ears intent, listening carefully for any sound from her pet's throat or snaps from her fingers, both of which were signs that Olivia was distressed. She heard nothing but the rustle of Olivia's copious clothing and heavy restraints and so Alex turned her attention to the woman who had risen to greet her. It was the owner, Janet, and she welcomed Alex enthusiastically with a shake of her extended hand and a kiss on her cheek before escorting her to the table. Pausing near an empty seat, Janet pointed out the other guests and introduced them by name. Alex smiled at each in turn before Janet glanced at Alex's silent companion. She gestured to Olivia's hand. "May I?"

Alex nodded, granting her permission, but kept a watchful eye on the strange woman. She assumed that Janet was well versed in common protocols; Alex and Olivia didn't employ any rules that would be considered out of the ordinary in this community. That said, Alex was very protective. One stray finger on Janet's part and Alex would pull her off so fast her head would spin. But, as she watched, Alex relaxed. Janet was gentle and respectful and maintained a polite distance. She held Olivia's bound, gloved hands in one of her own as she surveyed the submissive woman's accoutrement of steel and leather with obvious admiration. She spared Alex a glance. "She's lovely. Does she have a name?"

Alex grinned. "It's Olivia."

Janet nodded approvingly. "A beautiful name for a beautiful pet. And you simply have to tell me where you found this marvelous piece of equipment. I could really use one for my Eric. Sometimes his posture gets so sloppy." Janet tsked and caressed the steel bar linking Olivia's chin to the brace buckled around her hips with the air of an oenophile handling a bottle of particularly rare and fine vintage. With a last, lingering glance at Olivia, Janet released the silent woman and invited Alex to sit.

Replete with satisfaction, Alex motioned for Olivia to take her place kneeling in the open space beside her chair. Olivia obeyed with as much grace as she could manage and, at her mistress's touch on her stiffly held chin, raised her gaze to Alex's face. Even through her light touch, Alex could sense her loving slave's shiver of pleasure as she accepted the praise in her mistress's tender smile. She had done well and Alex had duly taken notice. She lowered her eyes as Alex moved her hand to palm the crown of her head. This caress and Alex's smile were Olivia's reward for perfect comportment and her promise of good things to come if she continued in such lovely fashion. Olivia smiled behind her gag and veil and resolved to make Alex proud. Her mistress had spent so much time planning this vacation just for her and Olivia was determined to match her effort. Taking a long breath, she relaxed completely into her role. Here, on this rug, crouched at her mistress's feet, Olivia felt more secure and at peace than she ever had.


	2. Chapter 2

It took a conscious effort for Olivia to refrain from sighing heavily as Alex loosened the straps of her corrective brace and then removed it completely. The unrelenting pressure on her ribs and waist was finally relieved and her body craved the release of a deep breath but Olivia resisted the urge. Such a reaction would be, in Olivia's mind, an unspoken but still overt rejection of her mistress's wish that her slave wear the brace. The device was imposing, uncomfortable and even frightening, but Alex desired it and Olivia desired what her mistress dictated. After all, this was exactly what Olivia had asked for. Not the brace specifically, but the chance to be Alex's slave, abject and devoted, for a few days. She wanted a vacation from her life. She wanted to allow her mistress to take control, down even to the most basic aspects of her being. That was why Alex had planned this trip for them and why, now, Olivia maintained a strict hold over her breathing. She would wait for Alex's command.

Alex worked methodically, setting the bulky brace aside and divesting her pet of her other restraints and clothing and discarding them sloppily on the floor. She would allow Olivia to clean them up later. Before then, Alex preferred to see to her slaves physical needs. It had been a long travel day for both women and Olivia had not yet been fed or allowed to rest. Withdrawing the gag from between Olivia's teeth, the last item beside her collar and chastity belt, Alex touched her pet's chin and met her gaze. "How do you feel?"

"Alright, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

"Good girl," Alex said softly before directing her pet to sit in a high-backed, wooden chair. Olivia obeyed without hesitation, anticipating her mistress's intentions and settling her arms and legs into the open wrist and ankle cuffs. Alex smirked and proceeded, latching and locking the wide, metal cuffs closed. She drew up a stood, perching so that her knees were outside of her pet's. Combined with the height lent by her seat and her relatively complete state of dress, Alex was sure that she made a very imposing figure. She unwrapped the simple meal the kitchen had so helpfully packed into a doggie bag especially for Alex's pet, taking her sweet time and enjoying the audible growling of her pet's stomach. Smiling indulgently, Alex offered Olivia a piece of melon, holding it just sufficiently far from her pet's mouth to force her to reach out, stretching her neck and searching with her lips to take the morsel. Alex waited patiently for Olivia to clean her fingers with her tongue before offering another bite.

Alex adored hand-feeding her pet. She knew that many masters and mistresses preferred to feed their submissives as they would feed a dog or a cat. They liked to dump the food into a bowl on the floor, as if their submissive's hunger was of little importance in the grander scheme of their lives. Alex appreciated their reasons but preferred to take the opposite tack. Owning Olivia was Alex's privilege. Whatever else Alex subjected her slave to, she took her time feeding and bathing Olivia, reinforcing the fact that Olivia was more than an ordinary possession. Rather, Olivia was Alex's dearest, most cherished possession and she was truly loved. Alex believed that these minutes of tender attention contributed to her slave's strength and resiliency, fortifying her with a dose of love to sustain her. Alex relaxed into her musing and fed her pet another sliver of cold chicken. Olivia obediently lapped at her mistress's fingers and Alex smiled.

Alex flipped another page of her novel and grinned; a few more paragraphs and she would have reached the end of the chapter. It wasn't that her book wasn't highly diverting. It was. Rather, it was getting late and Alex was ready for bed, despite the entertaining story and the miracle Olivia was currently working on her sore arches. Setting aside her book and glasses, Alex rose and went to the bedroom, momentarily relishing the crush of plush carpet under her freshly moisturized and worshipped feet.

She led Olivia to the bathroom, seating her on the lid of the toilet and preparing Olivia's toothbrush. With a bracing handful of Olivia's glossy hair, Alex tilted her slave's head back and proceeded to brush her teeth, paying special attention to make sure Olivia's mouth would be clean and fresh. She offered Olivia a cup of water, waited for her to rinse and spit, and lathered a wet washcloth. She washed her slave's face with tender focus and patted her dry. Encouraging her to stand, Alex quickly and carefully removed the chastity belt. She patted Olivia's cheek. "Use the toilet, honey. Wash your hands and your belt and come kneel by the bed." Olivia murmured her understanding and Alex left to change into her pajamas.

Leaving the bathroom door open, Alex hung her clothes with care and slipped into a sky-blue satin nightie. She turned down the bed's covers and clipped the lengthy, chain restraints she had brought to the head- and footboards. As she heard Olivia's quiet approach, Alex returned to the bathroom for her own ablutions. She went about the task unhurriedly; some quiet time before bed couldn't hurt her slave any and besides, on vacation, Alex was in no mood to rush. She brushed and washed her face attentively, even pinching the apples of her cheeks to make her skin flushed and rosy. She wanted everything about her appearance to be attractive to her slave. Her efforts weren't for her pet's benefit, of course, but Olivia wouldn't know that until later. After a final check of her reflection, Alex breezed easily back to the bedroom. She found Olivia exactly as she instructed.

Pressing one satin-covered knee to Olivia's naked back, Alex curled her fingers under her pet's jaw and forced her to look up. She held her like that for a long moment, rubbing her fingertips over Olivia's exposed throat with none-too-gentle pressure, emphasizing her vulnerability and Alex's authority. Alex could feel Olivia swallow and tremble and she smirked. It didn't hurt that, from her submissive vantage point, Olivia had a titillating view of her mistress's sexily-clad body and expectant expression. Abruptly, she released her slave's throat and nudged her forward with her knee. "On your side, facing the middle."

Olivia complied and Alex quickly bound her in place, buckling soft leather cuffs around pliable ankles and wrists. She tested the tightness before crossing to her side of the bed. Laying down, Alex reached across the mattress and gripped Olivia's face, squeezing to make her point. "No movement, no sound. Understand?"

Olivia nodded against her mistress's grip and Alex released her. Sighing pleasurably, Alex reclined against her pillows and spread her legs. She closed her eyes and focused on her plans for the next few days. Alex had a very active imagination; she had no trouble constructing images of Olivia in a wide variety of positions and states of vocal arousal. After all, she had spent plenty of time planning this, both on the internet and in her dreams. A soft smile dawning on her lips, Alex slipped one hand underneath her nightgown.

As she tickled the inside of her thighs, Alex let her other hand trail through Olivia's hair. She brushed her fingertips over her slave's cheek, throat and collarbone, wending a sensuous path across Olivia's skin until finding her breast. As she scratched at her pet's tender flesh, Alex imagined how red and sore those breasts would be after she caned Olivia's nipples, how they would shimmer with moisture and bob as her slave gasped for breath. The warmth of Olivia's breath wafting over her thigh as she allowed herself to be used as a tool for her mistress's pleasure intensified Alex's fantasy and she touched herself more intimately.

A long stroke along her labia made Alex shudder and she felt a gush of warm wetness. She wrapped her hand around Olivia's breast and teased the nipple with her thumb. As it pebbled and stiffened under her touch, Alex began to stroke her folds more intently. Soon, she felt the familiar shivers and she brushed her finger over her clit. Her arousal's momentum grew and Alex nipped at her slave's breast with her fingernails, endeavoring, even through her cloud of impending climax, to test Olivia's discipline. If she made a mistake and yelped, it was no skin off of Alex's ass; she was tired but not so much so that she would lack the energy to think up a punishment. If she managed to hold her tongue, well, so much the better.

Olivia's silence went straight to fuel the fire between Alex's thighs. Alex caressed her clit with gradually increasing pressure and her toes stretched and curled. Her orgasm spilled over her in a gentle wave and she inhaled a long, trembling stream of air. A second ticked by and Alex let her breath escape in a steady rush. She withdrew her hand from Olivia's breast and the other from between her legs. She relaxed her straining toes and opened her eyes. She took another long breath, focusing on the sweetness of the air as her chest rose and fell. Back in control, she scooted down to curl on her side. Pulling the covers up, Alex grinned smugly. She reached out to touch Olivia's lips with her fingertips, coaxing her pet's mouth open and slipping her fingers inside. Instantly, Olivia hollowed her cheeks, suckling her mistress's fingers and lapping up her taste. A few moments of this and Alex pulled her fingers free with a faint pop. She flipped off the lamp and settled down.

"You behaved very well tonight, my darling. I'm very pleased." Even in the darkness, Alex could see the shadow of Olivia's shy and quickly repressed smile. Feeling suddenly indulgent, Alex combed her fingers through Olivia's silky hair. She caressed her slave's cheek. "Don't let it go to your head," she whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

Biting her lip in concentration, Alex drew her riding crop back and took careful aim. the fact that her focus was a moving target only enhanced Alex's piqued sense of fun. With all of the strength in her long arm, she lashed out with the crop and walloped her pet squarely on her ass. Olivia jumped and yelped comically, giggling and instantly picking up her pace. Her adorable laughter was delightfully muffled by the thick, rubber bit between her teeth. Alex couldn't help but match Olivia's good humor with laughter of her own as she yanked back on the reins bunched in her fist, turning her slave's forward progress into an undignified stumble. She waited for Olivia to regain her balance before once again swatting her pet, chuckling as she nearly dropped the basket she was carrying.

"Careful," she warned mockingly. "You drop my lunch and you'll be crawling back." This was almost too fun, driving her slave over the deserted path through the fragrant trees and fluttering bird calls. Their afternoon of lighthearted fun was getting off to a lovely start and Alex was throwing her customarily meticulous consistency to the wind. She was thoroughly enjoying toying with Olivia, prodding her forward with stinging blows and then tugging her back. And the noises her pet was making, the noises Alex had specifically given her permission to make, were simply delicious. Alex grinned wickedly. If she was already having this much fun, maybe she'd have to make good on her threat to make her slave crawl after all.

Laughing raucously, the rowdy pair rounded a bend in the path and stepped into a clearing. The break in the trees led to a wide patch of grass that faded into sand and the edge of a clear, blue lake. This spot was Alex's goal and she drove Olivia onto the little private beach with a flurry of sharp smacks. She found a worn picnic table just where Janet had said it would be and, looping the reins over Olivia's head so that she could be pulled, led her obedient slave to the sunny lunch spot. She quickly knotted the ends of the long reins around the table leg before stretching her back and brushing a few beads of sweat from her forehead.

"Hot day," she breathed. "I think I'll take a dip while I wait for lunch." She took a moment to smugly survey her panting, perspiring pet. "Drink some water, baby. If you get dehydrated, I won't be able to play with you later." Alex stripped off her damp t-shirt and tossed it carelessly in Olivia's direction. She stepped out of her shorts and sandals and, down to her black string bikini, skipped blithely over the warm sand and into the cool water. She couldn't have asked for a better summer day for a leisurely picnic lunch and an afternoon of basking in the hot sun and gliding through refreshing water. Alex flipped onto her back, the better to soak up the pleasant environment and think.

She considered how wonderfully her life had turned out. She was indescribably grateful for the opportunity to be here, in this lovely locale, on vacation with her lovely wife while their lovely child spent a week being pampered and spoiled by overindulgent grandparents. Nine years ago, Alex had been almost without hope that she would ever be able to share even a shadow of a happy life with Olivia. Back then, their lives had been ruled by hospitals, therapists of every kind and, most devastatingly, fear. But, by slowly and steadily putting one foot in front of the other, she and Olivia had come through the horror and reclaimed their lives. Alex dove under the water, swimming in the darkness until her lungs burned and forced her back to the surface. She took a deep breath of piney air. Life was good.

Wringing the excess water from her hair, Alex waded back to the beach. Olivia waited silently for her, kneeling in the sand by the table and moving only to offer the folded towel she held in her lap. Alex accepted it and, smiling, glanced over the prettily set table. "Very nice," she crooned, sparing a hand to caress Olivia's sweat-dampened hair. Wrapping the towel around her body, she slid onto the bench and patted the space next to her. "Up here, sweetie. Good girls get to eat at the table." Olivia leapt up eagerly and took her seat, bending her head obediently for her mistress to remove the gag. Alex pressed her fingers firmly on either side of her slave's face, probing the stiff joints as Olivia worked her jaw. "Does it feel alright?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

"Wonderful. Now, let's eat. I've worked up quite an appetite and you're going to need your strength." She surveyed her choices and pulled a small plate toward herself. There was brie and fresh bread, packets of sliced fruit and crudite and a box with four delicate chocolate truffles. Alex filled a plate with generous portions of everything, especially cheese and bread. She set the plate before her pet before serving herself.

Alex wanted Olivia to eat. Under Alex's tender eye, Olivia had regained and maintained a healthy weight but she was still very lean. It was Olivia's choice to remain so but, for these few days at least, she had willingly handed over complete control to Alex. As per their negotiations, Alex was now in charge of every aspect of Olivia's being, including what she wore, said and, importantly, exactly what she ate and drank. While vested with this authority, Alex planned to see her slave gain a few pounds. By the time they returned home, Alex wanted a little more of Olivia to hold, a little extra jiggle in her already delectable ass and thighs. Anticipating how Olivia would react if let in on Alex's pet project, Alex held her tongue, grinning smugly and crunching a carrot stick.

The two women lingered lazily over their lunch, feeding each other tasty morsels and cuddling in the glaring sun. Alex plied her slender pet with the rich cheese and decadent chocolate until she was sure that, had Olivia been given the choice, she would have begged to stop. Much to Alex's amusement, however, Olivia didn't complain, politely thanking her mistress after each bite. Finally, Alex relented and pushed their plates away. She rose, discarded her towel and, with a handful of brown hair, tugged Olivia to her feet.

"Strip," she ordered playfully. Olivia complied hastily and, as soon as she was finished, Alex spun her pet around and bent her over the edge of the picnic table. Pressing a hand in the small of Olivia's back, Alex smoothed her palm over her pet's barely-covered ass, admiring the redness and spots of purple left over from their hike. Alex had hit her hard but, since Olivia had been wearing pants, the marks weren't particularly severe. Alex licked her lips. She had made a very pretty pattern on a very pretty ass.

Olivia sighed with pleasure at her mistress's attention. Alex tugged her upright and turned her so that they were face to face. "Your ass looks very sexy," she growled. "Do you have something to say to me, pet?" Olivia leaned into her mistress's hands.

"Thank you very much, ma'am," she murmured huskily. Alex growled again and pulled her slave into a domineering kiss.

Alex leaned her head back under the luxurious shower spray, rinsing the last of the shampoo and lake water from her long hair. Satisfied, she reached out for the conditioner. She took a moment to admire her attractive, if less than convenient, toiletry rack. In a stroke of genius, the resort had included an aluminum A-frame bolted in place at one end of the spacious shower stall. In what Alex considered to be an equally brilliant move, she had affixed her compliant slave to this frame, clipping clamps to unresisting nipple and connecting them with a thin chain. The chain made a perfect support for the little bottles of soap and shampoo that boasted plastic hooks on their lids. She dropped the conditioner back into place. The rack yelped. Alex snarled and smacked her none-too-gently across the cheek. "Silence or you'll get cold water." Olivia pressed her lips tightly together and Alex returned to conditioning her hair.

Alex lathered up a soft-bristled brush and turned her attention to her stretched girlfriend. By the time they had returned from their picnic, Olivia had been a filthy mess. Alex smirked. She supposed that being dragged on all fours down a dirt path on a humid afternoon would do that to anyone. Dirt was still being sluiced off in rivulets by the moisture cast off from Alex's shower and Olivia now resembled a pig fresh from wallowing more than a proud and beautiful slave. Alex was going to take great pleasure in scrubbing her dirty girl clean.

With merciless intent, Alex attacked the clots of mud still caked on Olivia's arms, enjoying the extra reach the brush lent her. She didn't even have to exert herself to clean her slave's hands, tied as they were high over her head. She worked slowly and meticulously, spending extra time rasping the soapy bristles over Olivia's underarms and chuckling at her pet's desperate muffled giggles. Olivia squirmed delightfully, fighting earnestly to obey and keep from wriggling away from the scratchy scrub brush. Once her slave's skin glowed pink and just on the comfortable side of raw, Alex set the brush aside. Efficiently, she lathered shampoo into Olivia's scalp and into the lovely thatch of curls between her legs. Alex leaned under the shower head for a final dousing and stepped out of the shower. She gave herself a quick pat-down before reaching back in. With a flick of her wrist, she aimed the nozzle at her sudsy pet, blasting the soap from her hair and making her splutter against the unexpected deluge. Alex tweaked the chain clamped to Olivia's nipples, reminding her that she was coming dangerously close to disobeying their rule of silence. Alex wanted to keep her in line. Any mistakes this early in the evening and Alex might never get around to the real fun. After all, punishment took valuable time and energy.

Paying careful attention to the tension of the ropes, Alex turned the wooden wheel in her grasp until she heard it click once. There, she thought, that would be just perfect. With experienced eyes and fingers, she examined the thick leather thongs wrapped around her slave's wrists and ankles. They were tight but properly positioned and sufficiently wide to withstand the tension. She had done this only once before, stretching Olivia on a rack, but she was highly knowledgeable in matters of the delicacy of joints and the safe use of restraints. Having ascertained that her wife would be safe, Alex rustled in her bag of goodies that Olivia had lugged down to the basement. She wanted to make this experience as positive and memorable as possible for her devoted pet.

Over their years of playing together, Alex had become very familiar with Olivia's preferences and with those activities that made the brunette nervous. Even so long after the traumatic events that Alex tried not to dwell on, Alex know that she had to tread lightly. On occasion, certain aspects of their play triggered flashbacks and, though these occasions were now very rare, Alex still remained vigilant. She diligently tracked their activities and her pet's reactions. She never wanted to inadvertently damage Olivia's psychological health.

Olivia liked restraints. She liked the weight of leather, steel and heavy clothing. The black headscarves, indestructible bra and formidable chastity belt that her mistress chose for her made Olivia feel secure and protected. When Alex coaxed thick dildos and plugs into her body and gags between her teeth, Olivia was impenetrable to any who would try to molest her. The tools Alex used to bind her were like a security blanket; under her mistress's adoring care, Olivia was safe. But, true to her never-ending quest for strength, Olivia had begged Alex to take her on this vacation and work to push her past her limits. She wanted to do so in a private and distant place, a place where she could endure and, if it happened, panic without the ever present worry that she could frighten her child. Alex had, of course, agreed. She always had difficulty refusing her dear wife anything she requested.

So here they were, in a slightly musty basement, facing Olivia's old fear of exposure. Olivia, tightly stretched and wide open, had fulfilled her part of the bargain. Now it was Alex's job to make her love her vulnerability. Alex withdrew a white rabbit skin from her bag and spread it over her hands. She laid the silky fur over her slave's chest and then drew it slowly up the length of Olivia's taut arm. Parting her lips, Olivia moaned throatily. Alex dragged it back down, across Olivia's breasts and then up her other arm. "Tell me what it feels like, sweetie."

Eyes closed as her mistress had ordered, Olivia touched her tongue to her lip. "It feels… soft. And cool, ma'am."

"Do you like it?"

"Oh yes, ma'am." Olivia's response faded to a whisper as a smile curved her lips and she laughed very softly. By this time, Alex had draped the skin over her pet's feet, tickling her. She set the skin aside and nuzzled her lips against Olivia's in a gentle caress of a kiss. She withdrew and picked up a sheet of very fine sandpaper. Using almost no pressure, Alex ghosted the sandpaper over one of her pet's taut, sensitized nipples, eliciting a gasp of unpleasant shock. "Speak," Alex commanded.

"I don't like it, ma'am. It's painful, it's… ah, ah, please don't." Alex had been grazing the raspy surface over her slave's inner thigh but, as Olivia yelped her plea, she scraped a patch of tender skin with real force.

"You do not give orders, Olivia. The only way for you to make this stop is to use your safeword. You know that, if you attempt to manipulate me, you will be punished. You have five seconds to decide what you want to do." Olivia took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Thank you for reminding me. Please keep going." Silently, Alex resumed her circuit of Olivia's body, double checking the raised burn on Olivia's thigh to make sure there was no blood. Satisfied, she exchanged the sandpaper for a feather duster. Olivia would like this much better, she was sure.

Without a word of warning, Alex set upon her pet's ribs and underarms, instantly turning Olivia's tense expression into a peal of laughter. "See, baby? You have to trust me. Good things come to girls who are patient. Now, tell me how it feels." She fluttered the feathers even more furiously against her pet's most ticklish flesh, rendering her nearly speechless even as she demanded perfect obedience.

"I.. I… I… It tickles, ma'am." Olivia's voice was an undignified squeal and her response was less than eloquent but Alex let it slide. It was simply too darling a scene to warrant a rebuke. Tossing the duster back into her bag, Alex touched Olivia's jaw and kissed her, tasting the fruit juice she had made her pet drink before beginning and suckling possessively on her full lips. Breaking contact, Alex moved down Olivia's body to slip her fingers into the fresh wetness between her pet's legs. She stroked her for a few moments.

"Does this feel good, sweetheart?" Alex lowered her head to take a sore nipple into her mouth.

"Of course, ma'am," Olivia sighed. "Your touch always feels wonderful." Alex chuckled against her sweet slave's breast and rewarded her with a little friction against her clitoris. Olivia moaned and attempted to grind down against her mistress's fingers, her efforts stunted by the ropes holding her tight. Alex turned back to her bag and Olivia groaned with loss.

"Liv," Alex murmured with a hint of threat. "That was a treat. Don't get greedy. It's unbecoming." Olivia hurriedly apologized and Alex unwrapped a rubber band holding an ice pack to a stainless steel butterknife. She laid a hand on Olivia's sternum to hold her in place. She had a feeling that this would make Olivia wild. With exacting intent, she slashed the blunt metal blade across her helpless slave's belly. As she had predicted, Olivia shrieked and her eyes flew open. Alex hid the knife from the frightened woman's view.

"Olivia, close your eyes, take a breath and talk to me." Alex kept her voice carefully neutral. She didn't like the terror in her beloved's eyes but she planned on seeing her plan through until she was finished or Olivia ended it with her safeword.

"It felt like a knife, like it cut me. I'm… afraid, ma'am. I'm sorry." Alex hushed her tenderly.

"You don't have to be sorry, darling. You just have to be honest." Alex traced a circle around the aureola of one nipple and noticed that a tear had wet Olivia's cheek despite her tight-squeezed eyes. Alex's heart broke a little but she traced a similar pattern around her pet's other nipple. "Do you trust me, baby?" she murmured

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you believe that I would cut you?"

"N… no, ma'am." Her voice was little more than a hiccup.

"I want you to focus on the pain and try to overcome your fear. I know you can do it, honey." Alex dragged the knife down the middle of Olivia's trembling belly and then, holding her own breath, let the edge wander between her pet's legs and across her beautiful folds. Olivia whimpered. Her fingers clenched around the ropes and her toes flexed spastically. Her body shuddered with the strain but she continued to breathe and no more tears appeared. Alex decided that her slave had had enough. She picked up a vial of rose-scented oil and coated her palms and fingers with it. Very gently, she placed her hands, palms down, on her pet's chest.

While Olivia calmed down, Alex smoothed her hands over skin pebbled with fear, leaving behind slick, fragrant trails on Olivia's silky breasts and feminine belly. She endeavored to touch every inch of her property's body, rubbing the oil into hips, elbows, ribs and delicate toes. All the while, she crooned loving phrases, praising each part of her slave's beautiful body in turn. Olivia sighed with restored comfort.

"Thank you, ma'am." Alex only cooed and accepted Olivia's gratitude knowingly. Olivia's statement was simple but pregnant with meaning. They could talk at greater length later. For now, Alex understood.


	4. Chapter 4

Olivia felt numb. She knew, on some unknown level of her consciousness, that her mistress was releasing her from the leather and rope bindings that had kept her body so tightly stretched for so long. She knew that she felt pain in her joints and that she felt shaky or vaguely cold or… something. She felt sad. She felt adrift.

Hands slipped behind her shoulders and lifted her up. Olivia liked those hands and obeyed their steady, irresistible urging. Those hands owned her; she would never fight them. Suddenly, they were gone and Olivia dragged her eyes open, overcoming their devastating leadenness. Her body cried out for rest, to be put to bed in some dark, warm place, but it craved those hands even more. She had to find out where they had gone.

She saw her mistress, bending over something, searching for something. Olivia knew her thoughts were fuzzy, incomplete, but she didn't really care. She just wanted her sudden loneliness to go away. Focusing her diffuse mental powers, she tried to call out. Her voice was a whisper that Olivia hardly recognized. "Ma'am," was all she managed to utter. It seemed to work anyway.

Her mistress made a movement that was too quick for Olivia's sluggish brain to completely comprehend. She did, however, comprehend an unexpected sensation of warmth and security. Something was pressed into her palm and her fingers closed reflexively around it. It was soft and pliable, a fold of a blanket, a familiar one. She liked it too but she still wanted her mistress's hands back. She didn't have to wait long.

"Olivia, can you stand up?" The voice, its husky timbre and syrupy pace, resonated in Olivia's ears and she couldn't help but nuzzle against the palms caressing her cheeks. She heard a low, gently amused chuckle and knew she needed to answer the question. If only she could recall what the question had been. She drifted away again, just for a moment, before pressure under her arms tugged her back to the present. Then she was on her feet, moving, being led. She didn't care where she was being taken; she trusted the arms around her, the homey scent in her nostrils, the sweet voice swirling in her ears. Where her mistress led, Olivia would follow.

Firmly, Alex coaxed her barely responsive slave to lay across her lap, cushioning her head in the crook of her elbow and tucking the blanket around her slack body. She took a moment to smooth her slave's tousled hair back from her forehead. Olivia opened her eyes and looked up at her mistress. Her pupils were dilated, making her eyes seem even darker than normal, almost black. She looked peaceful and serene. Alex planted a lingering, chaste kiss to her slave's forehead, eliciting a soft sigh. Alex smiled. Quiet intimacy was a thing Alex never took for granted, not once in nine years. She cherished every breath that Olivia took in her arms, every millisecond of happy serenity. She knew too clearly exactly how quickly lives could be destroyed. A deep breath swept the hint of dark memory from her thoughts. Now was not the time for brooding. Now was the time for living in the moment, gratefully and completely.

Taking care not to disturb her sedate slave, Alex reached for the baby's bottle she had set on the end table. Once she had settled Olivia safely on the sofa, Alex had quickly prepared it, heating the milk in the microwave until it was just warm enough to be a comfort. After a scene as emotionally intense as the one they had just finished, Alex knew that her slave would need care and soothing. And what, she asked herself, was more soothing than warm milk before bed? It was all part of the ritual Alex had designed to train Olivia to be her property. It was Olivia's job to accept her mistress's leadership and authority without question but it was Alex's responsibility to maintain her slave's well-being. Alex was very serious about caring for Olivia. After all, only bratty children purposefully neglected and broke their toys. Alexandra Cabot was neither bratty nor in any way a child.

She nuzzled the rubber nipple against her slave's lips, cooing tenderly until she accepted it and began to suckle. Alex curled her free hand and stroked the line of her slave's jaw with her fingertips, enjoying the faint motion as Olivia obediently drank her milk. Movement distracted Alex's focus and she turned her gaze downwards. It was her slave's hand, creeping out of the blanket's piled folds and up Alex's shirt. It paused at the base of Alex's throat and then relaxed to press flat against Alex's skin. Alex sighed with pleasure and grazed her slave's hand with her chin. Even though it had been nearly eleven years since she had first had the privilege of taking Olivia to dinner, Alex still felt the same thrill of love when her wife reached out for her.

Perhaps surprisingly, given the current dynamic of their relationship, Olivia had been the one to make the first move. It was their second date and Alex was uncharacteristically nervous. It wasn't an altogether unpleasant feeling, just a little unsettling. Alex did not like the idea that she might not be in complete control of any situation set before her. There shouldn't have been a problem. This was not a first date, Olivia Benson was certainly not a stranger, but the mild anxiety persisted and Alex drummer her fingertips absentmindedly on the table top. She was completely unaware of her nervous tic, lost in irritable musing. That is, until a warm hand covered hers, stilling her fingers. Suddenly guilty, Alex blinked and looked over the top of her glasses at her grinning date.

"Don't tell me I'm boring you already." Alex chuckled sheepishly.

"No, of course not. I was just… It's not important." She had been on the verge of spilling her secret butterflies when Olivia's fingers curled around her hand and squeezed. Alex returned the gentle pressure and her nerves evaporated instantly. Suddenly, she had nothing to distract her from the stunning brunette holding her hand. Alex took full advantage of the opportunity, committing to memory Olivia's smoky, dark eyes, candlelit grin and the shy dimple on her jaw that only peeked out when she was happy. That was the moment Alex knew that she'd treasure this memory for a very long time.

Her gut had been right. She had seen Olivia's smile countless times since that long-ago evening but that first instance held a unique place in Alex's heart. That smile and gentle grasp marked the instant when Alex fell in love for the first time. And now, with Olivia trustingly half asleep in her arms, Alex could feel herself falling all over again. With exacting tenderness, Alex lowered her head and used her lips to nibble along Olivia's hairline, mapping her wife's skin as if she had never been touched and claiming her slave's hair as if she wasn't already owned.


	5. Chapter 5

Alex stretched and, sighing, rolled over onto her stomach. The sun felt good on her skin and made her closed eyelids glow red even through her sunglasses. It was a lovely day to be on vacation, free to laze about in a bikini on a plastic lounge chair, not a cloud over her head or over her thoughts. Well, other than the threat of a sun burn, that was. Olivia was supposed to be taking care of that. Alex cracked an eye in impatient irritation. Her normally attentive pet was still kneeling by her side but her attention was clearly elsewhere. Alex cleared her throat. If she had to do more, Olivia would be sorry. Olivia made no sign that she had heard. Alex tugged her earbuds free.

Cackling inwardly, Alex rose up onto an elbow and smacked her slave's cheek with enough force to sting for a second but not to really hurt. "Olivia," she snapped, effectively hiding her amused anticipation. Olivia jumped, gaping guiltily at her mistress for a split second before snatching up the suntan lotion. Alex swatted her hands away, opting instead to bury a fist in the hair at the back of Olivia's head and force her down until her cheek pressed against the grass. She wanted a clear view of whatever had been distracting her pet so thoroughly.

For the most part, the back yard of their cottage was secluded, protected by a hedge on one side and the woods towards the back. But there was a clear view through to the back yard of the neighboring cottage, a view which indicated that the house was now occupied. The guests were enjoying the afternoon sun on the back patio. Well, at least one of them was enjoying herself. The other was clearly at work, bringing out food and cold drinks and fawning over her partner. It wasn't that interesting a scene. She moved to deal with her disobedient woman but, before she could speak, a faint, metallic tinkling came wafting on the weak breeze. Aha, she mused, perhaps she had discovered what had so captivated Olivia. And she had the perfect way to satisfy her slave's curiosity.

Alex pressed her hips forward, trapping her pet against the kitchenette counter. She craned her neck over Olivia's shoulder, carefully overseeing her work with the paring knife and murmuring instructions. This was a trick Alex had never tried before but had wanted to for a long time. She wanted it to be perfect or at least not result in an awkward trip to a Canadian emergency room. Also, she knew how her overbearing presence and constant nitpicking would drive Olivia mad with irritation and anticipation. She wanted her pet crawling up the walls before she let her have it. Ticking off the requirements in her head, Alex decided that Olivia's work was satisfactory. Hand on the nape of her neck, Alex shoved her slave over to the sink and proceeded to soap her hands for her. "Say thank you, sweetie," she crooned with false sweetness. "I'd hate for you to get any ginger in your eye. I heard that it really burns." Olivia shuddered and whispered her thanks in a pleading tone. Clearly, she already had some idea of where this was going. Alex pulled her into the living room. "You can guess what to do," she murmured.

Without a backwards glance, Alex hurried down the steps into the basement. She could swear she remembered seeing something down here. She hoped that her memory was correct; it would make her plans so much more delightful. After a few moments of hunting through the leather straps and nylon restraints lining the peg board wall, her eyes lit on her prize and she gave them a vigorous shake, aware that Olivia could almost certainly hear the ringing bells through the floor. She jogged back up the wooden stairs, jingling and jangling as she went, warning her slave that Alex was on her way and that she was going to get what she had asked for.

She found Olivia exactly as she had intended she would be, kneeling on the floor and toying anxiously with her fingers, her clothing neatly folded on a nearby armchair. Grinning, Alex took a moment to soothe away her pet's nerves, kneeling beside her to nuzzle her lips in short brown hair and drag sensitive fingertips along the long line of her spine. Olivia bowed her head submissively, presenting the side of her neck for her mistress's easy pleasure. Alex adored lavishing attention on Olivia's jaw and long neck and Olivia knew it. Alex smirked. Olivia was beginning to feel safe, to forget she was in for disciplinary action. With a jerk of her wrist, she gave the bells a shake, holding them in her edgy slave's view. She rocked back onto her heels.

"Are these what you were admiring earlier?" she asked. Olivia licked her lips hungrily and then dropped her head demurely.

"Yes, ma'am," she whispered.

Alex chuckled. "That's lucky for you," she sneered. "If I had thought you were staring at another woman, you'd have a lot worse coming. But you know that, don't you?" It was a rhetorical question but Olivia reacted anyway, her eyes darting up to her mistress's in distress. Alex ruffled her pet's hair. "Oh, Liv. I'm teasing you. Now give me your hands." Olivia obliged, extending her wrists and falling back into her rhythm of good behavior. Slowly and deliberately, Alex began to fasten the leather cuffs around the offered limbs, taking time to tweak the bells to make them ring. "You know, Olivia," she cooed teasingly. "You may regret this. They're called slave bells for a reason; they let masters and mistresses know exactly what their slaves are up to at all times. Every time they move. Every time they disobey. You'll have to be a very, very good girl if you don't want to spend the rest of our vacation over my knee." Olivia shivered and goosebumps pebbled her skin as the bells on her wrists tinkled weakly. Alex growled appreciatively. "See what I mean?"

With misleading gentleness, Alex guided her slave to lean forward and rest her elbows on the floor. As she buckled more bells snugly around Olivia's ankles, she launched into the speech to her plan that she had been piecing together over the past thirty minutes. This was a completely new technique Alex was about to apply, one without precedent in their play, and Olivia needed a proper introduction to it. "I'm very excited to try this out, darling. It's called gingering. Breeders used to do it to their horses, to make them hold their tails high and move their feet. Purchasers would pay a lot more for horses that moved so prettily." Olivia squirmed a little, the bells jingled and Alex swatted her nicely presented ass. "Nice try, honey." She rose to her feet and went to the kitchen. It was time to get the ginger finger Olivia had so skillfully carved out.

"And the Victorians, well, they did seem to have an avid fascination with bottoms, didn't they? They liked to discipline women by spanking them. And, with the proper application of ginger, they could make the most of the spankings by preventing the naughty girl from clenching to ease the pain." She knelt again and gave her pet a smart smack, chuckling gleefully as Olivia started. Grasping her slave's knee, she tugged it across the floor until she was humiliatingly and deliciously exposed. She nudged the blunt ginger against her trembling slave's anus and stroked the small of her back encouragingly. After a few moments and a little patience, the juicy plug was in place and Alex edged around her submissive pet so that she could cradle the brown head in her lap.

"See, that's not so bad, is it?" Alex laughed inwardly as Olivia murmured her answer. It would take a minute or two. Until then, she could continue to tease her vulnerable slave. "I also read that ginger can make women insatiable. And that their orgasms can be the best of their lives. Some people claim that this is a myth." She tickled Olivia behind her ear to make her shiver. "Let's prove them wrong, shall we?" Already, she could see that Olivia's toes were curling spastically and her cheeks were getting red. Clearly, she was feeling something.

Retrieving a cane from the toys she had set out on the end table, Alex moved back to her pet's side. She flexed the cane between her hands, limbering it up and giving herself a refresher on how she liked to use this particular toy. It was very thin and stung badly, the perfect cane to use for punishment rather than pleasure and, after all, that was her aim. Olivia had disobeyed her mistress's instructions and she deserved a sore bottom to remind her to behave. But she didn't deserve broken skin or welts that were too deep. She never deserved that. So Alex took her time, warming her slave up with light, rapid-fire blows until Olivia was obviously fighting the urge to squirm so as not to make the telltale bells ring and irk her mistress. It was a battle she was losing. Obviously, Alex had been too indulgent recently. She paused and tightened her fist around a handful of her slave's hair, pulling her head cruelly back.

"Olivia, you are disappointing me. I know how gracefully you can take your punishment. Now, be still." As soon as her mistress released her hair, Olivia let her head fall forward in shame and she became completely still and quiet but for her involuntary shivers. Alex caressed her beloved pet's shoulder, acknowledging her efforts and her regret with a loving touch. Gradually, the rigid set of her slave's shoulders relaxed and Alex touched the cane to bright red flesh. "I'm punishing you for letting your attention wander. While we are here, you are my slave by your own choice and you agreed to be attentive to my requirements. You failed. Do you understand?" Alex waited to hear her slave's quiet, rueful assent before drawing her arm back and delivering a heavy, stinging blow. Olivia inhaled in a sharp sniff but otherwise maintained perfect decorum. Alex delivered a second blow and then a third before she paused to assess the damage. There were three long, thin welts in different stages of development, the first raised and white and the last just beginning to flush with blood. Three more would be sufficient, Alex decided. She wanted to complete her punishment and move on to the fun before the burn of the ginger wore off. Unless Olivia behaved poorly, that was.

She struck her slave slowly, keeping an alert ear out for a jingle or a gasp louder than just shivering would produce. Olivia's breathing gained a staccato character as she gulped the voice out of her whimpers. Her fingers and toes moved jerkily but her wrists and ankles never moved. Her strident dedication to following her mistress's instructions warmed Alex with pride and she was glad that, after six unforgiving blows with a cruel cane, her pet had managed to obey. This woman was a prize, a treasure, and Alex adored being the one privileged enough to love and own her. And to be the one to give her pleasure. She exchanged the cane for a vibrator, taking a moment to rub it with a scrap of ginger and to let Olivia breathe without the looming threat of more punishment. She would need the oxygen.

Tracing the welts with a feather-light fingertip, Alex gave voice to her admiration. "Very good, Liv," she crooned softly. "You've made me very proud." She paused and smiled, coaxing Olivia to turn her head to see her mistress's satisfied expression. "I think the Victorians really had the right idea. I've never seen your bottom look so lovely when I cane it. So let's see if the other claims are true." She allowed Olivia to hang her head once more as the vibrator was pressed between her legs. Alex scratched her nails gently over her slave's back, enjoying the sensuous warmth and nervous goose bumps while she caressed Olivia's folds with the toy, waiting for the fresh sting of the ginger to kick in and letting the anticipation intensify. Finally, as Olivia's chest hitched and she arched her back subtly, Alex relented and flicked it on.

Olivia's whole body reacted to the sensation, flinching and gasping, making the bells jangle wildly. Alex laughed loudly, ensuring that her pet would hear. "You may speak if you like, sweetheart." Olivia yowled quietly, her voice choked, and she shuddered forcefully. Alex had difficulty keeping the vibe in place and she enjoyed every second of it, chuckling and touching her tongue to her lip. Olivia really was something to behold, driven mad by ginger stinging her most intimate flesh, welts marking the red-hot skin of her ass, struggling against her conflicting instincts to seek more friction and relief from too-intense sensations. Breathing deeply as arousal flushed her own cheeks, Alex bit her lip and snaked a hand over her pet's heaving ribs to fondle a sweet, warm breast. Damn, she thought as all the blood seemed to drain from her limbs to pool elsewhere. This was turning out to be a new definition of fun. She thanked God for the miracle of Wikipedia and Google and then, setting all other thoughts aside, melted happily into her pleasurable pursuit.


	6. Chapter 6

Alex pulled the end of a leather strap through its buckle and made it tight around Olivia's chest, securing her slave's bound and twisted hands between her shoulder blades. Keeping the tension steady, she leaned to catch her slave's shyly turned-away eyes. Strapping Olivia up the way she liked was a lengthy process and she was just now finishing up but, judging from the brunette's pink-spotted cheeks and slack jaw, Olivia didn't mind the wait. Actually, she looked like she was enjoying herself quite a bit. Alex sneered gleefully. "I think that this could be a little tighter, don't you?"

Olivia inhaled shakily. "Yes, ma'am. Please," she whispered. Alex hummed her cruel appreciation and tugged sharply at the offending strap, cinching it tighter and tighter until it bit into her slave's flesh and she arched her back prettily against the unyielding pressure. Buckling it with a flourish, Alex slid off of the bed and grinned at the way her slave's dilated eyes followed her every movement. A decade's worth of training and play and Olivia never failed to get that hungry, anticipating look in her eyes when Alex contorted her body with rope and leather. And that look never failed to pique Alex's arousal and her sense of playfulness. Well, this instance was no exception and she certainly was feeling very playful.

Licking her lips, Alex curled her fingers under her hem of her skirt and drew it up painfully slowly. Olivia's jaw dropped even lower and Alex grinned wickedly, stopping her progress just before her slave got a glimpse. She hooked her fingers in her panties and tugged them down, wriggling her hips until they fell to her ankles and she bent to retrieve them. Olivia's eyebrows knit together and she bit her lip. Alex dangled the scrap of cotton and lace from her index finger for a moment before she balled the panties in her palm. "Open up," she demanded, keeping her smile to herself as her slave's eyes darted between Alex's hands and her face. With deceptive gentleness, Alex pressed the wadded cloth in to her obedient pat's mouth and patted her cheek. Olivia shivered, making the mattress quiver despite how tightly she was bound. Alex picked at the edge of a roll of electrical tape while her slave was distracted and ripped off a generous length. That got Olivia's attention. Her eyes had only just flashed open when Alex smoothed the tape over her lips. Alex ripped off another piece. "You didn't think you'd get away with just the panties, did you? They're so tiny." She chuckled at her slave's lovely eyes, so wide and nervous. She stuck the tape across her pet's lips and followed it with another and another until Olivia was perfectly and completely gagged. She climbed back onto the bed.

"You know," she purred, pressing a lingering kiss over the rubbery, black tape, "some people think that using gags is all about manipulating a slave's mouth. I think they're mistaken. For me, it's about the eyes. Whenever I gag you, your eyes go big and round and you look so vulnerable." She paused between phrases to nuzzle and nip at Olivia's sensitive throat and jaw, biting down hard on her earlobe to emphasize her slave's total submission and exposure. Olivia whimpered, her voice distorted and muffled. Alex drew back. "Well, the eyes and those cute noises, of course. You know how much I love those," she crooned. She plucked viciously at the taut cord linking Olivia's nipple with her big toe, making her slave squeak and flinch. Damn, Alex thought to herself, she had really outdone herself. Olivia would be thanking her for this for a long time.

After considerable effort, Alex had transformed her aroused slave into an absolutely darling bed ornament, helpless to resist her mistress's whims whether they were to give pleasure or torture her with delicious agony. Leather straps kept her arms twisted at her back and bound her shoulders and chest securely to the slats of the headboard. They kept her breathing labored and shallow, whistling through her nose, and made her waist almost impossibly narrow. Her toes were knit together and to a pair of cruelly strong nipple clamps with loops of leather twine. A solid spreader bar kept Olivia's thighs wide and available for Alex's pleasure and wooden clothespins tied tight to her collar pinched the tender flesh of her folds. Every time Olivia tried to relieve the strain of hanging her head low, the pins would seem to bite deeper. Alex was delighted with herself. She hardly had to try and Olivia would manage to torture herself. Her slave's predicament practically warmed the cockles of Alex's lovingly sadistic heart.

Settling herself comfortably on her side, reclining on a stack of luxurious pillows, Alex caressed her slave's trembling body. Her skin was blissfully warm and supple, the old scars faded and soft. She had memorized the outline of each one but she re-explored them anyway, tickling with the tips of her fingers and covering them with warm, damp kisses. For a long time, she had consciously ignored them, unwilling to bear the strain on her heart by acknowledging the way her wife had suffered. But, slowly, she had begun to lavish attention on them, accepting the marks as permanent parts of the woman she loved and learning to love them. And Olivia had learned to love the way Alex loved them, sighing under her mistress's lips and tongue. She moaned and then shrieked as the clamps she had momentarily forgotten lit up the nerves in her labia and nipples. Alex chuckled against her slave's flesh. "You sure are moving a lot, sweetie," she cooed evilly. "I think that these need to be tighter." She abandoned her caresses to draw the sliding knots in the leather twin tighter, making her slave strain to hang her head lower and pull her toes closer. Her obedient expression of gratitude was thickly muffled and almost tearful, just the way her mistress liked.

"Oh, such a good slave," Alex crooned teasingly. "I think she deserves a nice treat." She held Olivia's tense, sidelong gaze as her hand hunted blindly through the tools and toys on the bedside table. Her fingers found what she was searching for and, with a broad grin, she held up the Wartenberg pinwheel for her slave's apprehensive benefit. "Oh wait," Alex laughed derisively, "did I say that you deserved a treat? I meant me." She ran the prickly toy over Olivia's ribs, making her laugh and squirm with ticklishness and pangs of sharp pain. It was her favorite way of torturing her slave, taking advantage of her ticklishness to mix pleasure with pain. She wrapped her hand around Olivia's throat, pressing against her windpipe and forcing her head up against the taut cords. She and Olivia drew a sharp line at breath-play but that didn't mean they couldn't enjoy a little emphasis on the power differential in their relationship. Running the steel wheel in arcs over her slave's breasts and nipples, Alex maintained the pressure on Olivia's throat until she was trembling furiously and almost wheezing. She released her, letting her breath as she recovered from the pain from the clothespins before attacking the impossibly tender skin of her inner thighs. Olivia wailed into her gag as bright red lines of pinpricks appeared and her twitching toes yanked on her stretched nipples. By the time Alex finally put the wheel aside, she had reduced her slave to a heaving, shuddering mess whose thighs and breasts were pricked as pink as her flushed cheeks. It was time for a little break.

"I am just having so much fun with you, Liv. Are you having fun?" Olivia only looked at her mistress with round, dark eyes. "Aww, poor thing. I forgot that you can't speak. Let me help you." She threaded her fingers into the sweat-dampened hair at the back of her slave's head and forced her to nod vigorously, ignoring the way she whimpered in pain. Alex grinned and spoke out of the side of her mouth in a half-silly voice. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you for playing with me, ma'am." Enjoying playing puppeteer, Alex decided to put on a regular puppet show for her own amusement.

"Those clamps look pretty tight, sweetie pie. Would you like me to loosen them?" She shook her slave's head and kept up her goofy high-pitched groveling.

"Oh, no ma'am. Please tighten them. I love it when you torture my nipples and my pussy." She released Olivia's hair just long enough to tighten the already taut leather cords. She could swear that her slave's cheeks grew even more blotchily flushed with anguish and humiliation as Alex watched. She knew exactly how much her wife hated the word 'pussy.' Chuckling smugly, Alex buried her hand in dark hair once again and resumed her fun.

"Thank you so much, ma'am," she squeaked. "Please tie me to your bed every night."

"Olivia, that's so sweet. You deserve a kiss." Olivia's entire body was shaking with the strain of attempting to ease the pain in her nipples and her labia and, when Alex yanked her sideways to kiss her tape-bound lips, she practically shrieked. Alex only laughed.

"Okay, okay, you've had enough and you've behaved very sweetly. You deserve something nice." She chuckled as Olivia flinched. "I mean it this time, I promise." She shifted to a more comfortable position and picked up the photo album she had brought along, balancing it on her knees so that both of them could see clearly. "I put this scrapbook together just for you, sweetheart. I spent a long time on it. I hope you like it."

She flipped to the first page and Olivia gasped in surprise. It was filled with photographs from their wedding night, pictures of Olivia's wrists and ankles bound with silver chains, of her collared throat arched back as her mistress tortured her, of her arms criss-crossed with loops of rope. The album, bulging with photos, was a record of their play for a decade.

Alex had always fancied herself an amateur photographer, at least in private. She occasionally transformed their bathroom into a makeshift dark room complete with red light bulb and clothesline for drying photographs. She didn't exactly have a choice, after all; Alex would never trust another soul with such precious film. She had never even allowed Olivia to see the final products of her efforts, keeping her dark room locked as she developed the pictures and storing the album in a lockbox in the closet. Until now, that is. She wanted it to be a lovely surprise for her faithful and obedient slave and, if Alex could judge by Olivia's wide, rapt eyes and shallow breath, she was indeed very surprised. Olivia had suspected Alex was up to something, snapping away with her camera as they played and never sharing the photographs, but she had never imagined that her mistress had made such a breathtaking record.

Turning the pages very slowly, Alex took her time recounting the play she had captured and picking out favorites among the many pictures. She particularly liked the ones in black and white. They made Olivia's skin look creamy and smooth and emphasized the exotic darkness of her eyes and hair and the contrast of leather and black cloth against her body. Black and white made her look like star of old movies, like Elizabeth Taylor if Elizabeth Taylor was bound up in impossible positions and whipped into submission. "Ohhh," Alex gushed. "This is a good one." She tapped on a photo of her slave crouched in a corner, as stiff and still as if she was tied that way though Alex knew it was only Olivia's repentance keeping her there. She was looking away from the camera, revealing her pretty profile and her hands, wrapped around her knees, held a cane. It was the same cane that left the deeply colored welts documented in the next picture. Alex loved the serene expression on her slave's face and the curve of her shoulders as she obediently waited out her mistress's prescribed punishment.

Sighing as she waded through her memories, Alex pressed a tender kiss to Olivia's cheek. "You look so beautiful, Liv. I wanted you to see for yourself. Do you like it?" Olivia's eyes darted sideways to look at her mistress and, knowing exactly the pain the movement would cause, she nodded deliberately. Alex kissed her cheek again and, flipping to a fresh page, snaked her free hand over her slave's stomach to dip into her wet folds. There was no reason that she couldn't make their review of such alluring photographs into another lovely memory. Alex smiled, pointing to a photo with one hand and fondling her slave's clit with the other. Olivia gasped.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: This chapter of Vacation has taken an unexpectedly dark turn into Alex and Olivia's traumatic history as it was described in Short Fall, Long Climb. I had intended for this story to be more of a light-hearted romp in the bondage hay but, well, this just happened. Thanks to the readers who have supported this story (and other stories) with nice comments and constructive suggestions. Really, I enjoy hearing what you have to say. Please enjoy this chapter!**

Alex stared at her reflection and brushed her long hair very slowly. She was centering herself, piecing together her mental armor. She was going to need it. Today was something she and Olivia had talked about for a decade now, planning it together as they lay in bed tonight. It was the driving force behind Olivia's request to go away for this vacation. Today, she was going to help Olivia wipe away the last traces of Dennis O'Hara, something too traumatic to do while their beloved daughter slept in the next room. They were going to reclaim the scars on her body and her emotions. Alex had to make herself as impervious and unbending as steel. She set the hairbrush on the edge of the sink with deliberate force. Her heart was sealed securely away, locked in a block of ice. She was ready.

Abandoning her usual grace, Alex clomped her feet on the wooden stairs to the cramped basement. Olivia had heard him coming; she needed to hear Alex coming too. In the cold light, Alex could see her slave flinch. Olivia had spent the night down here, blindfolded, chained hand and foot, naked on the concrete floor. Alex had hated to do it but Olivia had insisted, had come heartbreakingly close to begging until her mistress had allowed it. She didn't know about the baby monitor Alex had left and she never had to. It was for Alex's comfort, after all, the only way she could reconcile her conscience with her actions. But that didn't mean she got much sleep. Through the crackling connection, Alex had heard her wife crying softly to herself. In the end, she had spent half the night perched anxiously on the top steps, watching Olivia shiver and sob, listening to the rattle of chains against concrete. The only thing that had kept her from intervening, from calling the whole thing off and packing Olivia away in their bed, was her love for her wife. Olivia needed this. Alex couldn't deny her.

Alex nudged her slave sharply with the toe of her boot. When Olivia yelped, Alex yanked the headphones from her slave's ears and slapped her cheek. "Shut up," she spat. Alex jammed the iPod into her pocket. All night, Olivia had been listening to the recording she and Alex had made, a series of a mistress's statements and her slave's obedient responses.

"You love being my slave."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You love belonging to me."

"Yes, ma'am."

It took a quarter of an hour to complete the series before it looped back and repeated, over and over, all night long. The headphones had been Olivia's idea. The content had been Alex's. By the time Alex came for her slave, Olivia's lips were numbly mouthing the words. By the time her mistress kicked her back to consciousness, Olivia could only think about how cold she was, how much the blackness frightened her, how she was only an object. It was exactly what she had intended, though she could hardly remember that as recoiled from the pain of being slapped. She had to recreate the mindless malleability she had felt all those years ago. O'Hara had tormented her with an endless stream of evil chatter about her filthiness, about how she would learn to be repulsed by the touch of a woman's hands. He had nearly deafened her with recordings of the agonizing lessons he had taught her. Now it was Alex's voice ringing in her ears, reminding her that she belonged to her mistress and that she had a new teacher.

With handfuls of hair and chains, Alex dragged the shivering woman to her knees and then to her feet. She pulled her slave's head cruelly back, ignoring her throaty grasp and snarling in her ear. "I have so much to teach you today. Time to get you ready." Olivia shuddered in her mistress's grasp, stumbling heavily as she was shoved along. Alex clenched her teeth tight together. She was getting a glimpse of her wife that she had never seen, a glimpse of a woman in the process of being victimized. Alex nixed that train of thought like a gardener would pull a weed from a prized bed of roses. She couldn't go down that path. No matter what had happened or would happen, Olivia was in control here. This scene was just a scene, they were acting, Olivia could put a stop to it with a single syllable. She was not being victimized. Alex was nothing like Dennis O'Hara. She had to remember that.

Careful to keep Olivia from actually falling, Alex kicked her slave's feet out from under her and pushed her roughly against the wall. Almost before Olivia managed to gasp, Alex had hooked the chain linking her captive's wrists to a hanging cord and hiked it up until Olivia's hands were high above her head. Olivia croaked, "Why?" Alex kept her voice flat.

"Why? Because someone tried to teach you that being a dyke is wrong. I'm going to correct that." Alex had spent considerable time mulling over her phrasing, matching it as closely as possible to the spiteful words that Olivia remembered so clearly. The coarse words stuck in her throat but she forced herself to keep moving forward. Clamping her hand under Olivia's jaw, she tilted her wife's head back in order to fit her with a restrictive posture collar. She took a few steps back, uncoiled her long whip and cracked it once in the air. Olivia jumped. "It's time for your first lesson. Listen carefully. If you do not remember what I tell you, you will be severely punished."

"Yes, ma'a…" Olivia's throat closed around her statement as Alex snapped the tip of the whip on her breast.

"I told you to shut up, cunt," she snarled. "You listen. You will not speak until I order you to." She cracked the whip against her slave's taut belly, testing her. Olivia hissed but otherwise remained silent. Good. They could begin.

"I am your wife. My name is Alexandra Cabot. I love you very much." She punctuated each terse statement with a blow, marking her slave's thoughts with simple lessons and her body with red stripes. She paused to let Olivia breathe and to touch the welts with her fingers. They were perfect, just as raised and painful as she had hoped. It had been a while since Olivia had let her play with her whip and Alex was worried that she might be out of practice. She needn't have been anxious. She had put a lot of effort into learning to use her prized singletail, practicing diligently on anything handy: first pushing the sofa away from the wall to practice on the back; then propping up old pillows; finally tying Olivia down and using her pretty ass as a target. In a particularly humiliating scene, for Olivia at least, Alex had used a marker to draw flies on her wife's flesh just so that she could try and flick them away. Needless to say, the flies had stayed put and Olivia had ended up with a very sore bottom. But those were happier scenes. All that was relevant now was her skill and, as always, her love.

"I put the collar on you. You wear it because you're mine. You wear it because it protects you. I put it around your neck because I love you." Again, Alex paused. Olivia was beginning to struggle, shrieks of pain mingling with her gasps, tears wetting her blindfold. Twisting the cap off, Alex held a bottle of juice to her slave's lips. Olivia drank thirstily, the coolness welcome in her cottony throat. Alex set the juice aside and replaced the plastic against her slave's lips with a domineering kiss. Olivia was absolutely obedient, allowing her mistress to suck and nip at her pliant lips without even a whisper of defiance. Alex broke away with an obnoxiously loud smack. "You're making a lot of noise for a bitch told to hold her tongue." Alex retreated to her bag to retrieve a gag. Without warning, she jammed the long plastic phallus into her slave's mouth, ignoring her frightened choking. Alex pressed her lips to Olivia's ear. "Good girls love the taste of their mistress's cock."

Straightening, Alex again took up her stance and snapped the whip to get her slave's attention. "You are beautiful." Crack. "Your scars are beautiful." Crack. "You look beautiful when you're fucking me." Crack. "You look beautiful when you're being fucked." Crack. "I love fucking you." Crack. Alex coiled her whip in her hands, taking her time putting it away as Olivia shook and strained for breath. Alex was finished with this part of her plan; Olivia's breasts, belly and thighs all bore matching welts, as angrily red as the blotchy flush that stained her chest and cheeks. It was time to switch approaches.

Unclipping her slave's wrists, Alex caught the trembling woman in her arms and hauled her to upright. "On your feet, dyke," she hissed threateningly. It took a moment but Olivia managed to get her legs under her and, at her mistress's direction, walked the few steps to sit on the wooden rack. Gripping the collar and the chain binding Olivia's ankles, Alex forced her to lay on her back on the hard surface. Ignoring rack's ominous purpose, Alex worked quickly to tie her captive down with buckling leather straps cinched tight over her body. Olivia's tears became sobs and she fought against her mistress. Alex could guess at the memories her wife was reliving; she had seen more than enough of the grainy film O'Hara had shot to know that a tray of rings and scalpels accompanied this particular scene. Just as O'Hara had, Alex leaned over the head of the surface and grasped her slave's head between her hands.

"Stop," she commanded. Olivia became relatively still. "Snap your fingers." Alex had to be sure that her wife could still give her signal to stop. Olivia snapped, the sound reasonably clear despite her shaking hands. "If you can keep going, snap them again." Olivia did. Alex sighed inwardly and released her slave's hot, damp cheeks. If Olivia could do this, Alex could too. She went over the straps again, tightening them one by one until Olivia could do little more than flex her fingers and toes. Alex yanked the blindfold from her captive's eyes.

"Relax, honey," Alex cooed as Olivia blinked puffy, red-rimmed eyes. "I'm going to make you feel like a real, beautiful woman. You just need to relax." She stretched out her arm to pull a little, wheeled tray to her side, watching as Olivia strained against her collar to see what was there. Alex held up a small paper packet for her slave to see more easily and tore it open. "You're pretty dirty," she quipped sneeringly. "Let's get you cleaned up." Olivia squeezed her eyes tightly closed and whimpered deep in her throat. The sound nipped cruelly at Alex's heart but she ignored the pain. This was just Olivia sorting through her terrible memories. The wipe Alex pulled out of the torn packet was just a cleaning cloth to wipe away the grey dust and grit stuck to Olivia's skin from her time on the basement floor. It had a nice, fresh scent and Alex had bought the ones meant especially for sensitive skin. It wouldn't hurt, wouldn't even burn the raised welts.

Alex began with her captive's face, smoothing the dark hair away from her forehead and dabbing at the dirty tear tracks. Very gradually, the gentle touch seemed to soothe the trembling, trapped woman, wiping away the deep lines between her eyebrows as it wiped away the salt and grime. Alex trailed the damp cloth downwards over her slave's body to rub gentle circles at the soft flesh of breasts that shook with every shallow breath. Alex cooed as she bathed her wife, her tone softer and sweeter now. She was up against the most traumatic of Olivia's memories now, pressing her wife to relive the moment when O'Hara had attempted to cut away her womanhood and deprive her of her humanity with stitches and steel rings. Alex acknowledged Olivia's right to be terrified. She acknowledged her own right to be gentle and loving as she did it. Cloth wrapped around her fingers, she stroked between Olivia's legs and murmured to her. "Now you're ready."

Alex held up her familiar sack of wooden clothes pins. She used them all the time. Olivia would anticipate what was coming. She shivered. Alex began to speak softly, praising the beauty of her wife's breasts as she stroked the sensitive skin. She snapped a clothespin on each nipple, eliciting two sharp gasps. She drew her index finger down the length of her slave's crooked nose, admiring it and clamping a clothespin onto the septum. Olivia squeaked pitifully. Alex caressed her captive's lips, appreciating the way they were stretched around the gag. Using her thumb and forefinger as forceps, Alex pulled the soft flesh out and clipped them with clothespins, four on the upper lip and four on the lower. Olivia began to cry again, squeezing her eyes shut. Alex used the hem of her sleeve to dry the tears. She took a roll of tape and tore off a strip. She lavished praise on her slave's lovely dark eyes even as she taped them closed. Olivia bucked ineffectively against the leather straps holding her in place. She wailed into her muffling gag. Alex willed herself to stay cold. She laid her hand over her slave's sex.

"You have a gorgeous cunt," she said softly. The word had a sour taste on her tongue. That was why she forced herself to use it. She wanted to deprive it of its power, to associate it with nicer feelings and words. She and Olivia had managed to come to some sort of reconcilement with the physical changes but the names O'Hara had called Olivia still stung. Alex wanted to transform the words into caresses rather than slaps, just as she strove to retrieve the last scraps of dark associations with Olivia's scarred flesh and turn them into sources of pleasure. She described Olivia's flesh aloud, mingling crude and appreciative words in her phrases, murmuring for a long time before applying the first clothespin.

Without the pressure of the straps, Olivia would have flown off of the wooden surface. She shook her head wildly, her actions curbed by her collar, and held her hands up as well as she could in a pleading gesture. Alex's throat closed as she clipped a second clothespin in place. It was her best effort, placing that last clothespin. She left the sack behind and again planted her palms securely against her wife's cheeks. "Be still," she ordered, her voice as stern as she could make it. She held Olivia's head still with unyielding force, waiting for her wife's panic to pass. At first, Olivia fought but, as Alex repeated her command and waited, she began to stop struggling. Alex moved her hands just long enough to remove the gag. She rubbed her thumbs firmly over the joints of Olivia's jaw, massaging the achiness away. "Speak," she commanded, more gently.

Olivia swallowed with difficulty. "Oh, God," she whispered hoarsely, her words distorted by the clothespins that clacked together. Alex abandoned her stern façade.

"Do you need to stop, Olivia?"

Olivia's voice was almost inaudible but the syllable was clear. "No." Alex closed her eyes for a long moment, reassuring herself that the worst was over. She pried her hands away from her wife's hot cheeks, wishing that she had had the strength to say no to ever embarking on this traumatic journey. But she had said yes and she would see it through. Ending it now would make all of their efforts worthless.

In complete silence, Alex went back to her wife's side. Slowly and deliberately, she removed the clothespins from Olivia's labia, one by one. She lowered her head and pressed her lips to each red mark, kissing and caressing and pouring her love into that small point of contact. She breathed in Olivia's scent and touched her folds with her tongue, solemnly relishing the familiar taste and lovely warmth. Olivia tense under her lips and then, very gradually, began to relax. Alex waited, nuzzling against dark curls and silky flesh, until the strong muscles in her wife's thighs went completely slack before she marked a path of kisses upwards across a hip and a soft belly. She rubbed her palm over Olivia's stomach, urging her silently to breathe and be calm.

As gently as possible, Alex removed the clothespins from her wife's nipples, instantly replacing the wooden bite with her lips and fingers. Olivia exhaled in a rush, her voice giving the breath color. Alex soothed the soreness away with caresses and wordless coos. Olivia's breathing became deeper and regular and Alex rose to perch gingerly on the edge of the table. She pressed little kisses along the bridge of Olivia's nose, removing the clothespin as she kissed the tip. Olivia moaned softly. As her hands began to shake with emotion, Alex plucked the clothespins from her wife's lips, pausing to kiss and lap at the mark as she unclipped each one. At last, the clothespins were all gone and Alex brushed her thumbs over the reddened flesh as she unbuckled the uncomfortable collar and discarded it. Olivia tilted her chin up and Alex wrapped gentle hands around the back of her wife's neck, ghosting the pads of her thumbs over her vulnerable, exposed throat. At last, tears began to prick at Alex's eyes. She lowered her head to touch her lips to the hollow between Olivia's collarbones. The tears began to drop onto the old, rough scars from another crueler collar. Alex kissed them away, following the wet path over her wife's throat until she found warm, receptive lips. Something deep in Alex's chest snapped and she gave up on gentleness, embracing her passion and her sorrow and kissing Olivia as if this would be their first and last kiss.

Olivia matched her wife's fierceness, rising up as far as she could against her bonds and returning the kiss with love and strength that was shaken but still intact. She only turned away when she was finally desperate for breath. Alex slumped, the strength gone from her spine, and buried her face in her wife's shoulder. She craved oxygen, needed to inhale air that had caressed Olivia's warm skin. She needed to feel Olivia breathing under her. Very slowly, as the air soothed her burning lungs and the feeling tingled back into her numb hands, strength trickled back into her body and she could move once again. She pushed herself upright and, with strangely steady hands, eased away the strips of tape blinding Olivia.

They blinked at each other. Alex brushed her fingertips over her wife's eyes, coaxing them to close. Pursing her lips, Alex blew warm air over eyelids swollen from tears. She moved very close, squinting and searching for the telltale scars. She knew they were there. At last, turning Olivia's head gently with her palms, she saw them, little spots of white skin in rows above and below long, black lashes. These little marks represented a twistingly painful memory for Alex. She remembered every fraction of every second of the night when she had first seen her missing lover with stinging clarity. Even now, ten years later, her stomach still clenched. She kissed each eyelid lingeringly. She did this often, to give thanks to God that she had this wonderful woman to hold and adore. Pressing her lips together, Alex pulled back and crooned for her wife to open her eyes. She wanted to see those lovely, blessedly familiar brown eyes. They would give her the resilience to straighten her back and finish this scene.

As if she knew that her mistress was slipping back into her designated role, Olivia's eyes were filled with blank resignation. Without another gentle word or caress, Alex stood with authority and unbuckled the leather straps brusquely. As soon as her slave was freed, Alex jerked her upright and yanked her off of the table. Olivia stumbled on buckling knees as her feet hit the floor but regained her balance in her mistress's icily uncomforting grip and managed to keep up as she was half dragged across the floor. Alex shoved her against the concrete block wall, knocking the breath from her lungs and pinning her in place. Olivia's arms were forced up over her head and a new set of wide leather cuffs were buckled around her wrists before the metal cuffs were removed. Olivia let her arms fall as far as the long chains would allow while a wide leather strap was buckled around her waist. It was bolted into the concrete and Alex cinched it tighter and tighter until Olivia finally yelped. The sound convinced her mistress not to pull the leather any tighter but earned her a powerful smack on her ass. Hot breath hissed in her ear. "You don't speak until I tell you to speak, slave." Olivia shivered and pressed her cheek against the cold cement to show her obedience. Alex retreated and Olivia exhaled shakily.

Her relief was short lived. The chains clipped to her cuffs jerked and then tugged at her arms with steady pressure. She couldn't resist even though her instincts screamed for her to fight. The pressure was simply too great. Her hands were pulled out and up away from her body until her arms were stretched. Suddenly, she was perversely thankful for the strap pressing her against the rough, chilly wall. She had a feeling that, in a short while, it would be the only thing keeping her from hanging by her wrists.

Irresistible hands grasped at her ankles, releasing the metal cuffs and yanking her right leg. Olivia struggled to keep her legs together, choking out a stream of refusals but, again, received only a biting slap and a terse reprimand. Soon, her legs were spread wide, held in place with snug, unbreakable cuffs. Olivia bit her tongue. Her fright was rushing back in freezing, crashing waves. From beyond her range of sight, she heard the unmistakable crack of leather against leather. Alex had a belt. Olivia went rigid and her mind went blank.

"Let's see if you remember your lessons, you filthy, stupid dyke." The flatness Alex had managed earlier was shakier now but the hated slurs were crueler. She was at the end of her strength. She had to make this quick. She reared back and brought the belt down across Olivia's shoulder blades. "Tell me about your wife." Olivia's lips moved but no sound came out. Alex struck her again, a second wide stripe across her shoulders. "Now!"

"You're my wife. Ah! You're name is A-Alex. You love… love me!" She spat the phrases out as quickly as she could, screaming the last words as her mistress continued to beat her. As soon as she finished, the blows stopped coming and a warm hand touched her neck. Alex breathed words of praise into her ear and stroked her hair, pausing just long enough to retrieve the juice and give her slave a drink. She kissed her cheek and stepped back.

"Tell me about your collar." This time, Olivia began to gasp the words even before the belt cracked across her buttocks. She shrieked that Alex had given it to her, that she wore it, loved it, felt safe in it, anything and everything her fractured thoughts could force her mouth to say. Her voice fading to a breathless grunt, she finally managed the required phrase.

"Because you love me." The belt left a sharp line of fire at the crease between her ass and her thigh. Alex's voice cracked as she yelled at her slave.

"Say it louder!"

Olivia obliged, her voice sent an octave higher by a blow. Alex relented. She rested her chin lightly on her slave's strained shoulder and touched their cheeks together, her shaky breath mixing with Olivia's heaving gasps. Another gulp of juice and kiss and Alex was ready for the last push. She brushed her lips against her slave's ear. "You're almost finished. Make me proud."

Alex cleared her throat. She wanted her voice to be strong. "Tell me that you're beautiful." She landed a blow with her left hand, crossing a tender welt and reducing her slave's voice into a sobbing rasp. Olivia coughed and choked through the words, her mouth gaping in harsh, almost voiceless screams at each fresh crack of the belt. Finally, she managed to gasp that Alex loved her and she let her head fall heavily against the blessedly cold concrete. The belt hit the floor with a slithering thud. Olivia's legs gave out. A hand grasped the hair at the back of her head and pulled her away from the wall. Olivia looked up at her mistress.

"Say it."

"You love me."

Alex loosened her grip and cradled her wife's heavy head. "I love you. You did it." She carefully tilted her wife's head to rest against the wall. She retrieved a blanket from her bag of supplies and tucked it gently over Olivia's shaking shoulders. As quickly as she could manage, Alex freed her wife's limbs from the leather cuffs and, holding her securely upright, unbuckled the strap binding her to the wall. Olivia's full weight fell into her embrace and Alex staggered a little but, in a burst of strength fueled by adrenaline and tender love, she hefted her wife into her arms. Olivia protested weakly.

"No, I can…"

Alex shushed her. "You don't have to." Moving hurriedly but with care, Alex carried her half limp wife up the stairs and into the bedroom, depositing her on the bed. She took a moment to wrap the blanket around Olivia's exhausted body before retreating to the kitchen. She was desperately thirsty and she felt faint; she could only imagine how Olivia felt. Retrieving two fresh bottles of juice, Alex pressed the cold plastic against her overheated cheeks. They had done it. Now they could rest and heal and look forward to the rest of their lives without ever thinking of that name again. The scars belonged to Olivia and to Alex and no one else. No one else was invited into their marriage and no one would every push his way in again, not without stepping over Alex's dead body.


	8. Chapter 8

Alex set the juice and her sack of first aid supplies on the nightstand and stood over her silent, shivering wife for a long moment. She needed to exchange her cold façade for a more natural expression of caring and love. It wasn't a change that could happen in an instant. Putting on the mask of icy cruelty had taken time to put together; it took time to reduce it to pieces and pack it away. She touched her wife's hair and bit her lip as her fingertips were dampened with cold sweat. She had done this. She took a breath. No. A man who didn't deserve the dignity of a name had done this. Alex had only tried to help. She put the thought aside. Now her task was to continue helping.

Just as dramatically as Olivia's kidnapping had thrust her into darkness, Alex's efforts at nursing her back to health had led her back to the light. The torture had been quick and devastating; the healing process was gradual and gentle. In contrast to the quickness with which she cracked her whip, Alex kept the motions of her hands very slow and calm. This touch was the only thing that would ease Olivia out of her shivering silence without trauma. Alex had a heavy responsibility but she had assumed it willingly, on behalf of her beloved wife. She felt steady and in control. Even her hands stopped shaking. She pushed the folds of the blanket away from her wife's body.

The thin welts left behind by the whip were vividly red and spectacularly raised, a reminder of exactly how much force Alex had put into the blows. Olivia had asked for this, for marks that would last, to be whipped with real intent. This was no pleasant play-acting, after all. There was no humor, no instances of Alex flicking the leather tip against her wife's pretty ass just for the pleasure of watching her jump and squeal. Olivia didn't want warm soreness. She wanted memorable pain mixed with her mistress's fierce protectiveness and determination to inscribe her love into her flesh. Alex dabbed salve onto her fingers and smeared it onto the welts. Olivia's wish had been granted. She'd feel this for a long time. Alex took both of her wife's hands into one of her own and wrapped her other hand around the back of Olivia's neck. She broke her silence. "Come on, honey pie. Sit up."

Alex shifted so that Olivia could rest her shoulder against her body. Her head sank slowly until her temple was pressed to Alex's. Alex cooed to her, urging her to stay limp and pliable. This was the way Alex wanted it. Being beaten and psychologically abused had been Olivia's idea; the opportunity to patiently care for her wife afterwards was the price that Alex demanded. The panicked rush-and-wait rhythm of searching for Olivia after she had disappeared had traumatized Alex and she had found slow healing as she helped Olivia recover. It was only fitting that she should take the time to recreate Olivia's total reliance on her caring hands now. So she gladly supported her wife's weight as she squeezed more salve into her hands.

The welts on Olivia's shoulder blades and back were uglier than the one's left by the whip. They were wide and bulbous, discolored by the beginnings of deep purple bruises that bespoke the greater power that could be wielded by the wide, stiff leather strap. Alex dabbed at one misshapen mark made unique by a smear of half-dried blood. She had broken the skin, broken a tacit rule in their relationship. It was a serious offense. She tilted her head just sufficiently to touch her lips to her wife's ear. "I'm so sorry, Olivia." Her heart urged her to say more, to gush regretful apologies to convey exactly how sorry she was to have made this mistake but she held her tongue. There was nothing else she could say without breaking another of their rules and upsetting the comfortingly familiarity of their respective roles. They assumed these roles for a reason and Alex forced herself to remember. Maintaining her tender and complete authority would help them both work through this. She was the mistress and Olivia was her slave. Alex was never obliged to apologize and deigned to do so on the rarest of occasions. Olivia would understand the real significance of her mistress's simple phrase without any extra embellishment. Olivia sighed her submissive acceptance and leaned more heavily against her mistress. Alex nuzzled her lips against her slave's neck and picked up a role of elastic bandage.

Alex kept the pace of her work slow and painstaking, coaxing her slave's arms down to her sides and binding them in place with round upon round of soft, clean bandages. She wrapped her pet from shoulder to waist and then, folding Olivia's forearms over her cloth-covered belly, retrieved a fresh roll and set about wrapping her yet again. Olivia had an unconscious habit of picking and scratching at wounds; the layers would keep her fingers still and her welts protected. Dragging two pillows into place, Alex guided her slave to lay back so that her legs and buttocks would be sufficiently exposed for the application of ointment and bandages. Not only were there welts to be tended to but there was also the issue of Olivia's mobility to be addressed. After being found, she had been a bed-ridden invalid, unable to feed or care for herself in the smallest degree. Alex wanted to reduce her slave to the same level of helplessness. She wound rolls of bandages snugly around Olivia's hips, her thighs, her calves. By the time that she taped the last end in place, Alex had left only a few stripes of bare flesh visible. But she wasn't quite finished.

In the hospital, there was one thing she couldn't do for Olivia. She wanted to do it now. She brushed the soft leather of her slave's cream-colored collar against Olivia's throat before buckling it in place. The results of the sensation were immediately evident. Olivia parted her lips and released a long, slow breath, ridding her body of the last traces of tenseness. The bandages made a physical cocoon, cradling Olivia's body with softness and warmth. The collar was an emotional one, inspiring a sense of the complete security and safety ensured by her mistress's attentive care. No harm could come to her while the collar was around her neck. She could collapse and Alex would catch her. Lost in total submission and trust, Olivia didn't tense a single muscle as she felt her mistress's hands manipulate her body to curl it on the mattress. Her body belonged to Alex. Its muscles were Alex's to command, its wounds were hers to treat. The last of her unconscious will to resist had broken. Until Alex released her, Olivia was her mistress's slave and puppet.

Alex could feel the change in her slave's body under her hands and gaze. Olivia rarely fell this deeply into her submissive role. Her spirit was too resilient and proud to allow it. Yes, she liked to play the part of Alex's darling pet, basking in her wife's adoring touch, and yes, on occasion, she asked to act as Alex's property but there was always a glint of playful defiance in her eye and a hint of teasing in her voice. This was different. Alex made her touch even gentler and her words softer. In this state, Olivia needed to be treated as if she were made of cobwebs; the slightest breath of cold air would be a catastrophe and the thread of absolute trust would be broken forever. One wrong step and Olivia would never be able to sink so deep again. Alex hurriedly stripped, divesting her body of every stitch of clothing down to the elastic band that held her hair. She wanted Olivia to feel her body, naked and primal. She slid under the sheets and, with one arm, pressed the extra pillows over and around her slave's body, building her a little fortress of feathers and cotton to protect her where her mistress couldn't reach. Olivia would feel them as extensions of her mistress's body, layers of comforting heaviness surrounding her like the pressure of familiar hands. Satisfied, Alex stretched to reach the juice on the nightstand and curled against her slave, inserting the straw into Olivia's mouth. "Drink," she commanded gently.

As mindlessly obedient as a cow, Olivia complied and Alex breathed hot air into her ruffled dark hair. "That's a good girl," she soothed, cuddling her slave encouragingly. "You're my good girl, my sweet, obedient slave. I love you so much." Olivia made no response to show that she had understood or had even heard. It was a sign of the extent of her submission; without an explicit command, Olivia would make no move or sound. Instead, she merely continued to drink and rest in her mistress's embrace. Alex kissed her cheek and took the juice away. She laid her hand flat over her slave's eyes to shield them from the early afternoon sunlight streaming through the curtains.

"I want you to listen very carefully and answer all of my questions honestly. Once you've done so, we can sleep. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Alex shifted so that she could hold her slave tightly. "Are you in pain?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Why?"

"Because you beat me, ma'am."

Alex lifted one leg and curled it possessively over her slave's ankles. "Tell me about it. Tell me why I beat you."

"I asked you to do it. I wanted you to teach me that I am not a filthy dyke and to give me a reason to love my scars. You made me remember your lessons with the whip and recite them when you hit me with the belt. You hurt the parts of my body that he hurt. You made me feel helpless and afraid, ma'am." Olivia's voice was quiet and devoid of any emotion but respect and obedience. Her statements were simple and childlike. Alex listened patiently.

"Are you helpless now?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Are you afraid?"

"No, ma'am."

Alex hummed her encouraging approval and took a moment to caress her slave's throat with her lips. "Tell me what you learned."

Tamely, Olivia recited the phrases Alex had beaten into her, repeating that Alex loved her three times.

"You are a very smart girl, sweetheart. Now, tell me the truth. Do you believe what I have taught you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"That makes me very happy and very proud, Olivia. One final question. Do you regret any of this?"

Olivia's answer was immediate and unhindered by uncertainty or untruthfulness. "No, ma'am."

Alex's heart surged with relief and joy. That was the answer she had prayed so fervently to hear. "I'm glad. I know you're very tired. You must make me a promise and then you may go to sleep. You must promise that from now on, whenever you wear your collar, you will never refer to Dennis O'Hara. You will not mention his name, you will never speak of him indirectly, you won't ever even think of him. Do you promise?"

"Yes, ma'am. I promise."

"Then go to sleep, sweetheart. I am proud of you." Alex closed her own eyes and let exhaustion begin to overtake her over-stimulated body and mind. Inflicting such severe pain on her wife was not something she would have ever done without good reason and undeniable consent and the emotional repercussions were heavy. She needed sleep. Olivia was already beginning to breathe very slowly and her eyelashes no longer fluttered against Alex's fingers. Alex prayed that she would slip towards unconsciousness just as quickly. Maybe she would dream of Olivia. Maybe Olivia would dream of her. She hoped so.


	9. Chapter 9

Olivia felt heavy, as if every part of her body was being pressed down by invisible weights. Her fingers weighed on her hands, her knees sank deep into the mattress, her very eyelashes seemed to be made of lead, too heavy for her eyelids to lift. But the intense yellow glow of the setting sun was irresistible and she managed to crank her heavy eyes open. She felt drawn to the light, compelled to wake from her dense, dreamless rest so that she could watch the uneven lines of shadow cast by the pleated curtains as they crept across the simply furnished room. The almost undetectable slowness of the shadows' movement was an enticing complement to the inertia of Olivia's body. It made her feel at peace, reassuring her that it was alright to just be still and silent. For once, there were no obligations or responsibilities, no chance that her cell phone might ring and call her out to collect a child from a broken or dangerous home. Secure in her helplessness, she felt free to think and reflect.

She felt grateful. Somehow, despite the odds stacked against her from the moment of her conception, Olivia had made something special out of her life. She had expected so little and had gotten so much. It had taken unbearable effort and the setbacks had been just as spectacular as the advances but somehow, as she neared the milestone of her fiftieth birthday, Olivia was imbued with a sense of satisfaction. And pervasive gratitude. She could never have done it alone. God knows, she had tried and failed. Without her friends, her wife, her silly, adorable daughter, she had no doubt that she would have eaten her gun by now. She had considered it many times, had even spent an evening or two with the burn of scotch in her throat and the heavy finality of a Glock in her hand. She never thought of those nights except in instances like this one, while she was calm and safe and weighted down by Alex's arms. Otherwise it was too tempting to dwell on those dark thoughts or, more destructively, to talk about the old feelings. No, she only remembered them on occasion in order to experience the joy of marking how different a person she had become, how far and successfully she had progressed.

She felt proud. She was a survivor. As Elliot had put it one night, as they crouched over Buds and stale pretzels on a sticky bar, her life was a real example of how survival was meant to be. At the time, she had flipped him the bird and grumbled that he was becoming overly sentimental without her there to watch his ass and keep him tough. But she had tucked the thought away and, though remembering it made her feel a little inexplicable twinge of guilt, it also made her flush with a sort of pride. Even if she could never bring herself to talk about it with her burly ex-partner, she could admit it to herself on occasion. She would never be able to forget what had happened to her but she could live with it. She could remember, meditate, and then move on to the next memory. She could and she had. And Alex had been the driving force behind this painstakingly achieved ability. She and Peggy were the memories that held power over her now, not the scars Olivia bore. They overshadowed any other concern. They were Olivia's past, present and future. Olivia could never resent or fear any memory that involved her lovely wife or beloved daughter.

And yet, despite her pride, Olivia also felt a deep pang of sorrow. It continued to antagonize her heart like a splinter of wood embedded under the skin of a finger. It was so tiny, almost invisible, but nevertheless, it would continue to occupy her thoughts until it was extracted. She and Alex had been picking at it for years, digging deeper and deeper with their emotional tweezers. They had managed to retrieve fragment after tiny fragment but, like a particularly vicious splinter, there always seemed to be a piece left behind to irritate the wound. They had been pursuing it for so long now. Olivia wondered if they would ever manage to succeed, if it was even possible. But she couldn't help but try. She wanted her heart to heal completely. Until that last sliver was withdrawn, no amount of soothing salve or protective bandages could ensure that her heart would become whole. She hoped that this experiment, recreating the events that pierced her tender heart and left the splinter behind, would be that final probe with the tweezers. She didn't know. She needed time to wait and see that the wound was healing over. For now, the wound was still open, made freshly raw and stinging. The only option was patience.

With a long, centering breath, Olivia backed her thoughts away from musing on the past and the future and corralled them in the present. This moment was a good one, one she wanted to fix in her memory. And this one. And this one. She sought to document every one of the sensations she was experiencing, the pleasant sluggishness of every breath and every blink, the comforting pressure of the cocoon Alex had built for her, the pervasive and inescapable warmth that was just on the cusp of being too intense to bear. The fiery sting of her welts had faded to a dull, throbbing ache. Her muscles were steeped in stiff but not unwelcome exhaustion, the kind that only comes after strenuous and satisfying activity. Her mind was clear and blessedly unstressed. Her wife's body was heavy and relaxed against her own and hot breath whispered in her hair. No spa treatment or guided imagery exercise on a shrink's couch could create such a moment. No masseuse or mental health professional could wield a belt like Alex could. Olivia blinked and, with a tiny smile, marveled at how far the shadows had traveled. Half of a lifetime's worth of memories was collected in her mind and the potential of another half was laid out for her to experience but, for now, Olivia only wanted the present. It was good enough for her.

Alex touched Olivia's hair, hiding her primal urge to stroke and caress under the ruse of fixing a rumpled tuft. Her eloquence and vocal assurance had abandoned her in the aftermath of their long scene and so she chose to hold her tongue and express her authority through gentle touch and body language. There was so much she wanted to say, so many conflicting fragments of emotion she wanted to express, but the thoughts simply wouldn't gel into a coherent statement. For the time being, she waited for her calm orderliness to return and just concentrated on the sweetly peaceful expression on her wife's face. That look was a blessing, one that Alex hadn't taken for granted a single time in a decade. She wondered about the thoughts hidden behind that expression. She wondered if something had changed in her wife. But they were late for dinner and Alex let her hand fall to the small of Olivia's back. "Come on, sweetie. I bet you're starving."

As they strolled through the dusky evening air, Alex kept her wife close at her side. There was no explicit protocol tonight, no restrictive bondage or humiliating toys. They were just two women who shared a special and loving relationship, one dominant and one collared, one protective and one protected, walking side by side as partners. Alex let her feet carry her along without active thought, choosing instead to dwell on her adored wife.

Olivia was just as beautiful in Alex's eyes as the day they had met, the years that they had spent together endowing each line and gray hair with a powerful sense of accomplishment. Age and love had slowly tamed Olivia's impulsivity and given her an aura of staid patience. Her passion, once wild and brash, was now tempered with a gracefulness and steady maturity that made it even stronger. Alex had tripped over that almost feral passion and had fallen in love as quickly as one tripped over a curb and hit the sidewalk. It was instantaneous, shocking and it hurt. She had been young, then, and susceptible to Olivia's forceful recklessness. They had somehow braved the wild ups and downs of their early years together and, at last, they had reached a plateau of staid and mutual love. The wild flames had died down and now they were like two coals, nestled close in the grate, each keeping the other warm and smoky for the long haul. Working together, they were almost impossible to extinguish. On impulse, Alex touched her lips to Olivia's cheek.

Janet, ever the polite and enthusiastic hostess, rose to greet her guests as soon as they appeared in the doorway. She went to Alex, kissing her on both cheeks and making her instantly welcome. "I'm so glad that you've come to join us tonight. Without you, our table was going to be a little lonely." Indeed, there was only one couple besides Janet and her husband and the table seemed far too large for such an intimate gathering. But Alex was glad. She and Olivia were too raw and empty to handle a large party. A quiet dinner with a few new friends would be just fine. She took Olivia's hand and held it out for Janet to take. "Go on," she urged her submissive wife. "You may say hello."

Olivia raised her eyes and met Janet's smile. "Hello, ma'am." She stumbled a little, unsure. Janet clasped her hand tightly and encouraged her with a maternal nod.

"You may call me Miss Janet, Olivia." She glanced at Alex for permission and then, with a finger on Olivia's chin to hold her still, kissed her on her cheeks. She could feel the difference in Alex's attitude tonight and she decided to stoke the pride she sensed in Alex. Janet loved to have her pet admired; she loved to admire others' pets just to watch their masters and mistresses puff up with pleasure. And, when a pet was as lovely as this one, it was easy. "My, Alex, I can see why you keep her covered. She's absolutely stunning. And so polite and well behaved. I'm impressed. You must let me in on your secrets. I just can't tell you how many times my Eric has acted out in public. I swear he does it just so that I'll put him over my knee." She laughed lightly and waggled her finger teasingly in the direction of her silently kneeling husband as she ushered the women towards the table.

Janet bustled away to prod her pet into serving the meal and Alex pulled out a chair for her pet. The Dom seated across the table watched curiously as Olivia shyly took her place and Alex winked at him. Suddenly, she felt lighthearted and prickly with glee. They had done something important, she and Olivia, and they had come through it. The aftermath was sure to be rocky but, at this split second, Alex felt a kind of clear and peaceful happiness. They had come through terrible things in their past. They would tackle more terrible things in the future. It was inevitable. But, even if their serenity collapsed in the next breath, Alex could still embrace this breath and live it with joy. She playfully tweaked her pet's submissively lowered chin with her thumb and addressed the other diners. "Normally, I'd have her kneel but, to be honest, I'm not sure she can after the day she's had." Janet and the unknown man burst into laughter with a roar and Alex could feel hotness and tensing muscles in her wife's cheek as she fought to maintain a suitable level of decorum and restrain her own slightly giddy giggles. She couldn't help it and neither could Alex. The day had been long and dark and painful. Breaking the pain with a little teasing hilarity and highlighting the ridiculousness of Olivia's sore ass was only human nature. And Alex, despite her efforts, was only human. And that was okay.


	10. Chapter 10

Crouching low, Alex craned her neck to peek through the little wire mesh door. Inside of the kennel, the only light was filtered through the mesh and the round air holes and Alex had to lean close and shield her eyes to get a good look. She smiled brightly. The shadows were dark and dramatic but she still caught the telltale flicker of a blink. Olivia was awake. Alex was glad. Her pet looked so sweet, all tucked in and curled up, that Alex would have hated to have to wake her. Well, she almost would have hated to do it. She had a schedule to keep and no amount of cuddliness would deter her. That said, there was always time to indulge in a little teasing. Alex stuck her index finger through the mesh and flicked the nail over her pet's sensitive instep. Her pet gasped and jumped, scooting her entire plastic home half of an inch across the floor. Alex laughed out loud.

"My, my, Livvy-poo" she crowed gleefully. "Aren't we touchy this morning?" She unhooked the door's clasps and beckoned for her pet to wriggle her way out. While she tapped her foot brusquely, Alex grinned inwardly and ignored her pet's irritable and disobedient glance. A devilish idea had just popped into Alex's head, one sure to put Olivia in a better mood and remind her that sneering was never tolerated. She almost wished that she had time to pursue it immediately. She nudged her sullenly sluggish pet with her toe, prodding her forward on all fours.

Alex had always been of a logical and highly inquisitive bent, fascinated by experimentation and compiling results. It was a trait that served her well both professionally and personally, especially when it came to dreaming up inventive games to play with her wife. In her opinion, this idea was particularly delicious. Alex wondered just how quickly Olivia could bump her kennel across the room, given the incentive of bound and terribly ticklish toes. Better yet, Alex wondered what sort of distance her pet could cover in such a manner before she would exhaust herself and cry uncle. She had managed to make such a good start already and she hadn't even received an explanation of the game. Alex filed the idea away in her impish stockpile of possibilities. It was just too adorably alluring for Alex to set aside for long. She'd make it happen sooner or later. Probably later.

Huffing with half playful impatience, she bent down to grab a handful of thick dark hair. If Olivia wanted to play rough, so be it. She needed to eat. Alex would drag her across the floor and sit on her, if that's what it took. She took great pride in the care and maintenance of her toy, whether it wanted to cooperate or not. One way or another, Olivia would be fed a square and balanced breakfast in a timely fashion. Choosing between the easy way and hard way was her prerogative.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Eyes shut," Alex ordered softly, pressing two fingers under her pet's chin and tilting her head back. With intense and delicate focus, she swiped the mascara wand over Olivia's long lashes, putting the final touches on her makeup. It was an intimate and intensely personal action, perhaps surprisingly so, and Alex didn't indulge in it particularly often. For her part, she generally preferred her pet's face nude and natural. She was lovely without any effort whatsoever. And reserving makeup as Alex's privilege was just another tool in her mistress's toolkit; nakedness could be a powerful motivator and a constant reminder of her pet's subservient role. As such, being granted the right to wear makeup and clothing could be an equally powerful boost to Olivia's self-confidence. That was Alex's goal. She wanted her pet to feel beautiful and secure. Packing up her little toiletries case, Alex smoothed her pet's hair into a neat arrangement and rocked back on her heels to admire her work.

Olivia was seated in a corner of the small living room, held in place by a set of solid steel restraints. A long pole ran from the steel ring around her neck to a set of rings around her ankles, her feet resting on the floor in front of her body. In a similar fashion, her knees and wrists were also locked to the bar, holding her unyieldingly in place. Her clothes were simple and conservative but pretty and, if she looked just right, Alex could catch a glimpse of a delicate collarbone through the metal ring and pale leather collar. The makeup enhanced the elegant hollows under her cheekbones and the striking darkness of her eyes. It was a beautiful combination. But, as alluring as she was, Olivia still had a look of uncertainty that pinched the creases at the corners of her mouth.

From her spot on the floor, Olivia had a clear view of the room and the array of rope and furniture Alex had made ready. Clearly her mistress had a plan to for a scene but she had spent a significant amount of time primping Olivia and folding her away in a corner. Olivia felt unsettlingly like a pretty bauble, taken down to be dusted and polished only to be relegated to a shelf and ignored. Something was going on here and she wasn't sure she liked it. She decided to risk her mistress's anger and speak out of turn. "Ma'am…" she called quietly. She hoped Alex would understand her nerves and be gentle.

Alex's response was instantaneous. She popped out of the bedroom, having put away her makeup, and strode purposefully towards her unexpectedly disobedient pet. She drew herself up to her full height and positioned the thin heel of her stiletto menacingly over the arch of Olivia's trapped foot. "You have ten seconds to apologize and explain yourself," she snapped fiercely. Olivia had already tested her patience to the breaking point at breakfast. She would tolerate no more, not today.

Olivia shrank down as much as possible in her metal restraints. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm just… I…Ah!" Alex had ground her heel into Olivia's foot, the sharp pain cutting off her stuttering in dramatic fashion. Expression hard, Alex lowered herself to her pet's level and fixed her in a stern gaze.

"Evidently, I have not properly taught you the virtues of patience and trust, Olivia. Be sure that we will revisit these subjects later. For now, I want you to behave as if you've never so much as had a naughty thought in your life. I am having a guest over and I expect perfection. Do not embarrass me. Do you understand?" Olivia, cowed, respectfully whispered her comprehension. Alex's expression and posture immediately softened and she resumed her gentle attitude. "I know you'll be good, Liv. And I want you to remember that you have your safe word. You can use it anytime you want, even if it seems like I'm not paying attention to you, and I'll be right back here before you can blink twice." Olivia managed an appreciative grin as she acknowledged her mistress's statement. Alex was true to her word, swooping to the rescue without a breath's hesitation or a thought for her own safety. Or her dignity. One particular memory materialized in Olivia's mind and she had to stifle an urge to laugh.

Needless to say, despite Alex's well-established prowess, she couldn't execute every scene perfectly. Especially on the first try. A few years ago, Olivia had found a mysterious package leaning against the door, unmarked but for Alex's name and address. At the time, she hadn't given it a second thought, setting it on the counter and immediately forgetting all about it. Upon arriving home, Alex had torn it open with devilish eagerness and all but pounced on her unsuspecting wife. In her enthusiasm, Alex had paused for only the most cursory glance at the instruction pamphlet before trussing Olivia up and zapping her with the snapping shocks of the Violet Wand. Olivia remembered that pain with exacting detail. It had hurt like a son-of-a-bitch and she had screeched through only a few moments of the torture before calling out the safeword and giving up. She was tough but that was ridiculous. Alex had, as promised, immediately dropped the toy and set to work unbuckling the restraints. Working hastily, she had made the mistake of nudging the toy with her toes and received quite the nasty surprise. In an amusing turn of events, Olivia had spent the rest of the evening lavishing silly heaps of tender loving care on her shocked and swearing mistress, her smug satisfaction that she was tougher than her menacing mistress hidden by the thinnest of veils. It was a hallmark of their relationship: Alex always kept her promises and Olivia was never punished for a session of good-natured teasing. Warmed by the humorous memory, Olivia felt a little of her apprehension melt away. Alex might have something less than pleasant planned for her wife but she would never push Olivia past her limits.

Olivia was still pressing her lips together to keep her laughter to herself when a loud knock broke her reverie. Alex hurried to answer and Olivia craned to get a glimpse. Anxious or not, Olivia was intensely curious to see what was going to happen. Submitting to Alex meant learning to mistrust the pangs of nervousness. Two sets of heels clacked towards her and, at the first sight of their houseguest, Olivia's curiosity was further heightened. Arm in arm, like old friends, Alex and Janet chattered happily as they walked across the living room and stopped at Olivia's feet. Suddenly hyperaware of her status in the presence of two dominant women, Olivia ducked her head and waited to be acknowledged. A few moments of idle small talk and Alex touched her pet's temple affectionately. "Be polite, sweetie pie," she crooned in a patronizingly humiliating voice.

Looking up through her lashes, Olivia greeted their guest and was rewarded with Janet's palm on the crown of her head, patting her as if she were a puppy performing an adorable trick. "It's so nice to see you, Olivia. You're wearing those irons particularly nicely, I must say. Alex has told me how much you've been enjoying our facilities and equipment. I do hope you'll be so kind as to leave a nice review on our website. And maybe a picture of that pretty ass of yours. Potential guests do so love to see examples of the handiwork they can achieve here." Leaving Olivia to blush in silence, Janet turned to Alex. "Shall we begin?" Alex nodded.

In the few seconds it took for Alex to give her permission, Olivia could suddenly sense a drastic change in the attitudes of the women before her. All of the friendliness evaporated from Janet's expression and she became imposing and authoritative. She grasped Alex's chin and turned her face this way and that way, studying the tall woman's features with an air of cold arrogance. Alex's posture changed subtly and Olivia couldn't keep her jaw from dropping. Realization had dawned on her, clearing away her curiosity with the efficiency of a snowplow setting on an inch of light powder. Alex was going to submit. Blood and warmth rushed to pulse in Olivia's groin. Her lips became as dry as parchment. Utterly ignored, Olivia fixed her gaze with rapt discipline on the scene beginning to unfold before her. She didn't want to miss a single second.

Janet's hands were almost too quick to be seen. In an instant, she had whipped Alex around and, with a handful of blonde hair, dragged her to the coffee table. "On your knees. Kiss my boots until I tell you to stop." Alex complied without resistance, taking only a split second to meet her pet's shocked gaze with dilated, aroused eyes before lowering her head and laving Janet's patent leather boots with her lips and tongue. Olivia tried to swallow and failed, abandoning her efforts as she watched her mistress grovel while Janet fitted her with a deftly knotted rope harness. This was utterly unprecedented and intensely sexy. Olivia took back any misgivings and resolved to trust her mistress without fail. Alex would never lead her astray.

Disengaging the blonde from her boots with a brusque swipe of her toe, Janet retreated to a chair at the far side of the room and imperiously took a seat. Alex moved to stand and follow but froze as Janet denied her the privilege. "Crawl, Alexandra. Make me enjoy it." Alex sank back down and, keeping her head pointedly low, began her slow, painful path across the floor, hobbled by the ropes tying her arms tight behind her back. Olivia had a tantalizing view of her mistress's back and, more interestingly, her backside. Its slow clench and sway captivated Olivia and she couldn't have torn her eyes away from the rope extending from between lean thighs to crease Alex's flesh even if there had been an axe murder closing in. Even fully clothed, Alex's performance was almost obscene. It certainly fell under the catch-all of "subject matter that may be offensive to some audiences." Olivia felt offended in the best possible way.

As Alex reached her feet, Janet lifted her boot to Alex's shoulder and pressed down, forcing her to bend low. She planted her foot in the center of the blonde's back, keeping firmly in place. It was time for some theatrics, Janet's specialty. "I have been hearing some very upsetting things about your comportment, Alexandra. I understand that you have been very seriously remiss in your duties to your girl. Why, you told me yourself that, just this morning, you allowed your pet to sass you about eating her breakfast. This is simply unacceptable. Here, we pride ourselves on attracting only the best of the best and you are not living up to your capabilities as a Domme. I believe that you need to be punished. Do you agree?"

Alex's "Yes, Miss" was muffled against the floor but Olivia could hear it clearly. The words went straight to prick at her aroused sex and she couldn't help but squirm a little. Forget unprecedented. Olivia had half believed that it was impossible. She could hardly believe that the scene was real, that she was indeed not merely dreaming. She bit her lip. It hurt. She was not dreaming. She was, in fact, the luckiest person, male or female, on the planet. Alex Cabot, the Ice Queen, was about to get a spanking. Even if she broke their cardinal rule of privacy, she knew that Elliot would never believe her. Alex was simply unspankable. And yet here she was, turning awkwardly around and holding her face up for Olivia's viewing, waiting patiently for Janet to choose a paddle.

The first blow shattered Olivia's tense raptness and she had to fight off a nearly irresistible urge to erupt in peals of hysterical giggles. Her mistress's face, scrunched in a comical grimace of pain, was just too much and her grunt as she obeyed Janet's command to count was pathetic. Olivia was very familiar with the paddle currently being applied to Alex's ass. It was light, the bark of its loud slap far worse than its bite. It couldn't hurt that much, especially through layers of panties and slacks. Alex may have a mean sadistic streak but she was certainly no masochist. She could dish it out like a master but, when it came to taking it, Alex's innate princess came out. Not for the first time, Olivia seriously considered putting a pea under Alex's side of the mattress, just to see if she'd notice.

By the time Alex reached ten, her face was red and Janet relented. She took hold of Alex's blonde ponytail and pulled her upright, forcing her to make eye contact. "Are you sorry for disappointing me?" Alex quickly assured the stern woman that she was and promised to be better. Olivia shivered. This promise, she was sure, would have some very interesting consequences for the rest of their vacation. Alex seemed very earnest and determined. But Janet wasn't finished with her yet. Olivia watched in a daze of expectation and unsatisfied lust.

Alex had to have known what was coming. After all, she was the one who had set up the equipment before Janet arrived. Even so, her blue eyes were wide and apprehensive as Janet used her ponytail to steer her towards the wooden sawhorse. It was a deceptively simple device, its basic construction little more than two sheets of wood joined together to make the shape of an A-frame. But the point at the apex, even rounded to a safe dullness, was more than sufficient to inflict delicious torture on the unfortunate woman made to straddle it. And, today, that woman was Alex. Janet pushed her forward, inch by inch, until Alex could only avoid the wood by standing on her toes. She didn't manage it for long as Janet hefted first one foot and then the other, bending Alex's weakly resistant knees and fastening her ankles in place with convenient leather straps. Alex whined as the weight of her own body crushed her sensitive flesh against the sawhorse. Janet tutted briskly and dangled a gag with a metal o-ring before the complaining woman's eyes. "I can see that you're not going to take this well so I think you ought to wear this for your pet's sake. You wouldn't want her to think of her mistress as a whiner, would you? Now, open up." Alex obeyed, though not before she managed a spoiled grimace, and soon her mouth was wedged wide and inviting. Janet patted her on the cheek. "Very nice, Alexandra. You just relax there for a minute and think about how to be a better mistress." She turned and, for the first time since beginning the scene, fixed Olivia in her gaze.

Watching as her mistress was unceremoniously mounted on the frame like a record bass on a plaque, Olivia had indulged in a wide smile. But, as those imposing eyes scanned her, the wiped the dopey grin away and quickly retreated into safe submission. She hadn't expected to be involved at all. She wondered anxiously what she was in for. Staring at the unknown woman, Olivia watched, spellbound, as Janet strode to the kitchen and returned quickly, a pair of oddly-modified leather cuffs in her hands. She knelt at Olivia's feet and, without a word, buckled and locked them around her ankles. And then, surprise of surprises, she began to remove the steel rings binding Olivia in place.

Aware that this was likely part of Alex's plan and, quite frankly, a little stunned, Olivia complied with Janet's silent commands. She rose to her feet and allowed herself to be led towards the sawhorse. The cuffs were distinctly cold against her skin and heavy attachments clunked against the floor with every step. Olivia was itching to give the cuffs a closer examination but she was given no chance. Soon, she too was straddling the wooden device, face to face with her Alex, nearly enough to feel the whoosh of her breath. She was so tantalizingly close. Olivia's fingers clenched and unclenched unconsciously, excited by the prospect of touching her tightly bound mistress even as she was unwilling to risk Janet's ire. She waited, distracted by the familiar pinch and burn between her legs as Janet fastened her ankles in place. Her attention was refocused by a hand grasping in her hair. She looked directly into Janet's face.

"The cuffs around your ankles are each locked to the sawhorse by a cylinder of ice. It will take an hour or a little longer to melt and release you. Until then, you will remain here. After that, you are free to do as you please. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss Janet."

Janet nodded approvingly and pressed a pair of EMT's shears and a battery-powered vibrator into Olivia's hands. "I'm sure you can figure out something to do with these until you're free." She glanced at Alex with distinct amusement and then back at Olivia. "If I were you, I'd take advantage of her while you can. Once you let her loose, I'm sure that you'll be paying for your fun anyway. You might as well do the crime before you do the time, right?" She patted Olivia's shoulder smartly and then beat a graceful retreat, leaving the two women to their privacy. Olivia watched her go.

The click of the front door snapped her back to the present and, tightening her grip on her toys, turned to look at her mistress. The power of Alex's fiercely narrow-eyed glare was canceled out by her comically wide mouth and the long string of undignified drool threatening to dampen her blouse. Olivia let a wide and wicked grin curve her lips. She decided to take Janet's advice. Only Alex could tell her if such an opportunity would ever present itself again and, well, she wasn't feeling like speaking much at the moment. Olivia had to make the most of it. And boy was she ever ready.


	11. Chapter 11

In the aftermath of all the activity and the reverberation of the firmly closed door, the cottage grew pin-drop silent. Clutching her precious toys, Olivia could do little more than gape at her trussed and salivating mistress. She felt like a kid reared in the USSR who had been suddenly uprooted and dropped in an American candy store, a crisp twenty dollar bill hot in her pocket and no mother to take away her sweets. The possibilities were practically infinite and all of them seemed equally mouthwatering. She wanted to dig in and gorge herself but her mind, made mushy by arousal and shock, simply couldn't seem to choose. A fat drop of icy cold water plopped onto her heel and Olivia jumped. In that instant, her plan materialized before her. That little, frigid shock jarred her thoughts from their overexcited rut and got her ball rolling, reminding her that her time, unlike her menu of options, was finite. She didn't want to waste another drop of melting ice. She licked her lips and positively leered.

As Olivia's gaze darted and lingered over her bound body, Alex clenched her teeth uselessly on her humiliating gag and attempted to lock her slave into her fiercest, most authoritative glare. Robbed of her eloquence, a significant source of her power over her pet, Alex challenged Olivia to go ahead and do her worst, if she dared. Her defiance gave Olivia an out, if she so desired, even without using her safeword. If she wished, she could surrender her temporary authority, cut Alex free and sink back into her safe submission without the threat of punishment. Otherwise, Alex anticipated that her bold insubordination would serve to fuel Olivia's excitement and endow her with the confidence to snap up this special and generous opportunity to act out her fantasy. Besides, domination lost some of its precious thrill if the subject didn't fight a little.

An air of smoldering challenge heating up her normally icy blue eyes, Alex studied her slave's expression with haughty meticulousness. Street-wise and smart in the pursuit of her job, Olivia was not one who would tolerate having the wool pulled over her eyes. But, once the collar was buckled into place, Alex marveled at how open and sweetly naïve her slave could be, so easily manipulated by Alex's masterful touch. It had to be a consciously made choice, a quiet desire of Olivia's to put aside her caution and allow her mistress to lead her blindly down the rabbit hole. In any case, she was playing the part of little hungry fish perfectly, circling the bait with only the barest hint of wariness as she pursued that first savory nibble. Even with the cloud of consequences in clear view, the morsel was too tantalizing. She had to bite and, once she did, she would discover exactly how briefly the delicious flavor would remain on her tongue before she felt the cruel sting of the hook. After all, there was no such thing as a free lunch.

Meeting her mistress's rebellious eyes with an expression of wicked and playful lechery, Olivia balled her fist around a handful of rope harness and held the shears up teasingly. She ran the dull metal edge over her mistress's cheek and down her long, pale throat, exerting enough pressure to make Alex's pulse flutter visibly in the delicate hollow between her collarbones. There was no real danger here; the scissors snub-nosed and safe, used by EMTs to cut away clothing from flailing patients. All the same, the steel was cold and smooth and thrilling to wield. Olivia yanked Alex close, forcing the wooden ridge to grind cruelly against the blonde's most sensitive flesh. She licked her mistress's jaw possessively and pressed her lips to a flaming red ear. "You know, when the ice melts, only I will be free. You'd better behave nicely if you want me to untie you anytime soon."

Olivia chuckled as Alex tried to jerk away and reassert her authority. She felt suddenly intoxicated with power. Her fantasies had often featured Alex helpless and writhing against Olivia's chafing control but the reality was turning out to be even sweeter than her day dreams. She was going balls to the wall, as Elliot so tactfully put it. Every rule and curb on her behavior that Alex had so painstakingly implemented was suddenly reversed. For once, Olivia held all the cards. She was going to play each and every one. And Alex had no choice but come along for the ride. Olivia shoved her back and, locking eyes with her wary mistress, reached up to undo the buckle of her collar. Alex gasped and growled pathetically. Olivia grinned.

"I've been wearing this for a long time, Alex, but you've never once felt it around your neck. I think it's time you had a little taste." She drew the leather band snug around Alex's throat and fastened it. She tapped her fingers sharply against her fuming wife's cheeks, forcefully enough to ensure that Alex would be humiliatingly reminded of her new status. "Now you're my slave," she remarked, her voice low and gravelly. "I expect you to act like it." For a long moment, Alex silently challenged Olivia and then, with dangerously narrow eyes, bowed her head. Olivia petted Alex's hair and put on her best patronizing tone. "What a good girl," she crooned.

Olivia was practically bubbling with excited glee but she hid it carefully behind a confident façade. She had just broken a cardinal rule, collaring her mistress. Alex had to be absolutely boiling with fury at her treatment, holding it in check only to re-earn the privilege of freedom and the promise that she would have ample time in the future to put Olivia back in her place. All she had to do was be patient and she would get her just rewards. Olivia too. And, the first thing to address when she got free? Making Olivia pay for the hack job she was wreaking on Alex's clothes.

Picking folds of the blouse from between strands of tight rope harness, Olivia busily snipped wide holes in the cloth. With each discarded scrap, another section of Alex's pale skin was revealed for Olivia's pleasure. Soon, but for the crisscrossing rope, Alex's sides were completely exposed. Time for some much deserved payback. Olivia drummed her fingertips over her mistress's ribcage with fleeting and feather-light pressure. Alex snorted with irritation. Then she bit her gag as her shoulders began to shake. Within a few minutes, she was howling with laughter, jamming her chin against her chest in defiance but completely helpless to resist the unforgiving bouts of tickling. Just as she thought she'd pass out for lack of breath, the tickling stopped and Alex slumped her shoulders, sucking in beautiful scoops of air to soothe her stinging lungs. Oh yes, Olivia would regret ever even imagining making her laugh. Just as soon as she got free. And caught her breath.

Even as she panted, Alex felt the little tugs of Olivia once again going after her clothing with those damnable scissors. This time, her slave's fingers caught little nips of the sensitive skin of Alex's breasts and Alex's eyes flew open. Hell no. She repeated the terse statement over and over in her irritated thoughts as first circles of her shirt disappeared and then circles of white lace, ruining her expensive bra in the process and leaving her humiliatingly erect and aroused nipples vulnerable and exposed. Olivia chortled with arrogant amusement, flicking her mistress's taut pink nipples and relishing her sense of absolute power as Alex squeaked and flushed a delicious shade of blotchy pink. She knew Alex's deep, dark secret; she was aroused by Olivia's manhandling. Olivia pinched and tugged the little bugs and raised her chin proudly. "Let me see your face, pet." She bit the last word harshly and Alex obeyed, if only because she was infuriated by the condescending name. Olivia smirked obnoxiously.

"You are such a liar, Alexandra Cabot. All this time and you had me convinced that you didn't switch. Well, rest assured that I'll keep your little secret." Her voice dropped a teasing octave. "And I'll never forget it." Keeping her knowing eyes on Alex's for as long as she could, Olivia lowered her head and took a nipple between her lips, sucking hard and grazing the little puckered morsel with her teeth, digging her fingers deeper into Alex's hips at each flinch and shiver. She had Alex by the balls now. She'd make this stoic woman scream out her name by the end of this. Or try to, anyway. She bit down. Alex yelped like a puppy with a stepped-on tail. Olivia straightened her back and grasped Alex's jaw with both hands. She touched her thumbs to her wife's saliva-slick lips and then slipped the digits into Alex's mouth to press against her immobilized teeth. She felt the thrill of dangerous apprehension, putting her hands in an irate tigress's mouth. Luckily this tigress couldn't bite, no matter how badly she wanted to. Olivia cooed in cloying sympathy.

"I bet that gag is getting uncomfortable, huh? I bet that your jaw is getting stiff and sore and, look, you're drooling like a bull dog, all over that nice shirt." Olivia moved one hand to fiddle with the destroyed scraps of blue cloth, tsking to rebuke her wife for such carelessness. "I could take it off, you know, if you asked very nicely. I do like it when you let me know how much you're enjoying this." Olivia winked and lowered her head once again, taking an untouched nipple in her mouth and setting out to lick and nibble it raw. Above her bobbing head, Alex broke her silence, reluctantly at first and then more stridently, convinced to speak by the spikes of arousal and pain radiating from her abused nipples.

Arching her back to thrust her breast deeper into her slave's mouth, Alex admonished herself for her wonton behavior even as she begged aloud to have the gag taken out, to have Olivia lavish even more attention on her tender flesh. Thoughts muddled by pleasure, Alex wondered where this was coming from, where her abjectly submissive slave had been hiding this animal confidence and aggression. She had expected timid exploration and reverence. Instead she was being absolutely dominated, reduced in a matter of moments to a squealing mess of tingling nerves and rushing blood. Alex resolved to ride this tide and enjoy it while she was forced to. She resolved that Olivia wouldn't be able to do so much as blink without pain for at least a week. Until then, she wanted her slave's tongue on her nipples and anywhere else she could reach.

Pulling her pursed lips away with an insufferably loud pop, Olivia smirked at her mistress's pitiable whine of loss. How spectacularly the mighty could fall, she mused smugly, and how quickly. Burying her hands deep in blonde hair and pulling it messily from the elastic tie, Olivia toyed with the gag's buckle. "Do you promise to be a good girl?" Alex nodded and moaned her garbled promise, yearning for Olivia to relent and put her tongue back where it belonged. Olivia loosened the straps and took the steel ring from between Alex's teeth, tossing it away and threading her hands back into silky, tangled hair. "Show me how thankful you are." She tilted Alex's head back and pulled her body forward, bending to capture eager lips in a bruising kiss.

True to her word, as unintelligible as it had been, Alex let her mouth be pliable under Olivia's lips and teeth. She mewled as her lips were nipped to delicious soreness and a domineering tongue laid claim to every tooth and inch of flesh. She had put her pride aside for the moment, boxing it up safely while she debased herself with squirming and moaning. She was using Olivia, she insisted to herself, manipulating her slave to play into her waiting hands. Strong fingers teased her straining nipples and Alex gasped with pleasure, instinctively moving her hips and grinding against the torturing sawhorse. Her sex was throbbing and wet. She craved Olivia's commanding voice in her ear. She longed for Olivia to figure out a way into her pants. She… Alex's eyes popped open. No, this wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was faking it, play-acting. Alexandra Cabot did not enjoy submission. She didn't. Steel slid over her belly and sliced into the waistband of her slacks. The fierce, demanding kiss was broken and Alex sighed plaintively. She hated this. Really.

The flat edge of the scissors worked slowly over her bent hip and down her thigh, cutting the thin cloth like it was nothing and baring her pleasure-flushed flesh to cool breaths of air. Hands crawled over her body, tugging the shredded remains of Alex's nice slacks from under her, leaving only the lacy nothingness of her silk panties to protect her from Olivia's leering designs. Urged by Olivia's wickedly teasing commands, Alex dropped her head to look at her embarrassingly trussed body. Her mouth went as dry as cotton and her heart pulsed deafeningly in her ears. What a sight she was. Her small breasts, red and painfully swollen, peeked out from ragged holes in her blouse and bra. Her shirt was reduced to little more than a humiliating bib and the legs of her slacks were only held up by the friction between her thighs and the sawhorse. Her jaw went slack. Olivia's fingers played with her panties, drawing Alex's blushing attention to the dark, sopping stain of arousal in the pale silk. She stared, captivated by the results of Olivia's dominance. Olivia cooed and tilted Alex's head back up, pressing the plastic tip of the vibrator under the blonde's chin.

"Time to tell the truth, sugar tits," she purred with false sweetness. "Tell me that you're loving this."

Alex remembered herself enough to narrow her eyes threateningly. Sugar tits? Loving this? Never. "No."

Olivia only raised her eyebrows mockingly. "No? Fine. Then I guess you won't mind if I keep this all to myself." She dangled the vibrator in front of Alex's eyes.

Pointedly ignoring her fuming captive, Olivia began to unbutton her own blouse, discarding it carelessly and caressing her breasts through the filmy cups of her bra. She made a great show of enjoying every touch, letting her mouth fall open and her eyes fall closed as she pinched her own nipples and arched her back. Tilting her hips forward and back against the rub of cloth and hard wood, she trailed her fingers over her ribs, following the edge of her bra's band until she found the clasp. She bit her lip and let it fall from her body. She opened her eyes and looked sweetly at Alex's flushed face. "Are you sure you don't want me to share?" Alex blinked the dazed look from her eyes and shook her head defiantly. Olivia shrugged, making her breasts bob invitingly. "Have it your way." She unbuttoned her pants and slid one hand to touch herself.

Shivering with anticipation as she moved her fingers in slow circles, Olivia took a moment to wonder at the scene she was acting out. Even in her wildest fantasies, she had hardly dared act so aggressively with her imperious mistress. To do so in reality… Yes, she liked to provoke Alex on occasion by testing a rule or two but never before had she had the opportunity or the guts to break all of them in one sitting. And to do so with such unrestrained lechery. She felt possessed, drawn inexorably to the immediate pleasure of pushing her mistress to the breaking point and the delayed treat of whatever punishment Alex would think up once the ropes came off. Olivia was sure that it would be memorable and extended. Images and sensations rushed through her thoughts, each one more exquisite than the last. Her clit twitched and she felt heat rise blotchily on her chest. She clicked the vibrator on and moved to slide it into her panties. A grating gasp stopped her hand and she opened her eyes with effort, turning the toy off.

"Liv, I…" Alex ground her teeth. "I love it." Olivia smirked and clicked her tongue.

"Oh, Allie-poo," she crooned patronizingly. "You took too long. Now you'll have to wait your turn." She closed her eyes and touched the vibrator to her folds, turning it back on. "Also, to you, the name is 'ma'am'." She threw her head back and focused on the penetrating vibrations, breathing deeply as her arousal rippled and flared up. She was already so close, teased to the brink by the vision of her mistress whining under the paddle and begging for her to deign to touch her. Her hands and feet tingled with numbness as all feeling seemed to concentrate on that one tortured spot between her legs. She clenched her teeth together as her thoughts were swamped with straining pleasure. She groaned with feral intensity. Alex groaned with her. The rushing wave crashed and Olivia ground her hips down, static blinding all of her senses but the electricity of the vibe against her clit. Her head fell forward and her spine slumped. She took a trembling breath. She clicked the toy off, the sensation now dangerously close to pain. Forehead pressed to the junction of Alex's neck and shoulder, Olivia could only manage one thought: Goddamn.

The static ebbed away and Olivia forced strength back into her spine, straightening up and pulling her authoritative air back into place. She twisted her lips in carnal satisfaction and looked sharply at her red-faced captive. "I suppose you'd like a turn now, huh, honey buns? I want you to say it again. And make me believe it." Olivia pressed her fingers to Alex's damp panties to ram her point home, rubbing with just enough force to make Alex's body betray her and squirm for more. Alex swallowed audibly and hissed her response through clenched teeth, the potency of her resistance diluted by her wonton shivers.

"I love it."

"Try again, candy ass."

"I love it, ma'am."

Olivia cocked her head and, waggling the toy tantalizingly, flicked the switch and let it buzz angrily. "Three years of law school and that's the best you can do? Surely you can think of something more convincing. I'd hate to let the batteries go to waste while you sit there and sulk."

Alex sighed grumblingly and looked down like a reprimanded child, pouting as she gave Olivia what she demanded. "I love being dominated by you, ma'am."

Olivia perked up, smug and elated. "The truth at long last," she crowed arrogantly. "You should have told me a long time ago, buttercup. Honest girls get to have lots more fun than naughty ones." Retrieving the shears from where she held them against the sawhorse with her thigh, Olivia made short work of cutting the panties at Alex's hips and yanking the silky wisp free. Alex gasped at the friction and at the roughness of wood now digging directly into her sensitive folds. She hardly had time for a second breath before the vibrator nudged her clit and she was tugged against the toy by a fist around her collar. She tried to protest, resenting the way she was pulled about by the humiliating collar like a dog, but the pleasure was too delicious and Olivia's grip was too strong. A tongue lapped at her throat and jaw and Alex surrendered, melting in the bliss between her legs. Impossibly soon, blinding fingers of impending climax began to lick at the edges of her vision. She was close, embarrassingly close, brought teeteringly near the precipice by her enforced submission. She'd make sure that Olivia would never again mention this degrading scene, not if she could help it. But, until then… Hot breath pricked her ear.

"Say my name."

Alex moaned. "Olivia." She yelped harshly as sharp teeth bit into her earlobe.

"Say my name." Olivia's voice was a growl, threatening and sensuous at the same time.

Fighting to form syllables as her voice became one long groan, Alex croaked, "Ma'am." Lips fastened around the flesh just under her jaw and began to suck intensely, marking her with a mortifying hickey. Her body spasmed. Dignity gone, Alex shrieked. Olivia Benson was a dead woman.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: As Alex loves to say, good things come to those who wait. If you're reading this now after (goodness, what? About 2 years?) however long it's been, thanks and hope you enjoy! **

By the time the icy cuff holding Olivia's right ankle in place broke free, she had all but forgotten about that part of the scene. In fact, with a mouthful of Alex's breast and a handful of Alex's ass, time had seemed to stretch into infinity. But the clock had kept ticking and the ice had kept melting, and now, her time was up. She kissed a path up from Alex's breast to her cheek and ran her palms over rope-bound flesh to rest on her wife's shoulders. Leaning back a little ways, she dipped her head until she caught Alex's eye. She grinned and ran the pad of her thumb over Alex's bottom lip, admiring how reddened and kiss-swollen it had become. "Okay, hot lips," she murmured huskily, "let me hear you say it again."

Alex turned her head, coaxing Olivia to open her hand and caress her cheek. She wasn't sure of the exact moment it had happened, but at some point, the humiliating nature of her situation had been superseded by the arousal inspired by Olivia's wickedness and her magic fingers. Despite Alex's original intention to give her pet a little thrill and a little fight, she had soon found Olivia's daring smile to be irresistible, and besides, the rewards that came with compliance were... well, she had lost count of the rewards, to be honest. Without breaking eye contact with her aggressive, amused wife, Alex touched the tip of her tongue to the lip Olivia had been toying with. "I love it, ma'am."

xxxXXXxxx

When Olivia offered her hand to help Alex off the wooden sawhorse, Alex took it gladly. Olivia had not been stingy with the vibrator, and in the aftermath of all that attention, the sensation caused by the wood between her legs had intensified from pleasurable friction to a mild pinch to something edging on real pain. Additionally, her knees and arms were stiff with disuse and straining against her bonds. She was looking forward to a good stretch and a glass of water. And getting started with her sweet, sweet payback, naturally.

With Olivia's help, Alex gingerly scooted back off of the horse, and at last, she planted her foot on the cool floor and stood. And promptly felt her leg buckle under her, pins and needles burning from her toes to her knee. She yelped and clutched at Olivia, knocking them both off balance. For a tense moment, Alex felt Olivia falter in surprise, and then, they were on the floor amidst the scraps of clothing and rope Olivia had snipped, torn and peeled off of her wife's body. She rolled off of her winded brunette, grunting a nearly silent curse as something hard poked her in the back. Holding up the offending object, Alex felt a chuckle rise in her chest. It was the vibrator. Of course.

She let her head fall back, the chuckle turned into a giggle, and within moments, Alex was practically shrieking with uncontrollable laughter at the utter ridiculousness of the morning they had just had and the fact that it was – she lifted her head to peek at the wall clock – only 11 AM. Rising up on her elbow, Alex held back her laughter long enough to press a kiss to Olivia's lips. Resuming her chuckling, Alex stroked her wife's exposed throat, caressing the expanse of skin the collar usually hid.

Olivia shifted, using one hand to cushion her head and the other to tug gently on the collar that remained buckled around Alex's, reminding her that, technically, the scene wasn't over yet. "You know," she said quietly, a half grin playing at the corners of her mouth, "You are really terrible at subbing, sweetie."

"I know," she murmured. She grinned wickedly, dragging her fingers over her wife's lips and letting them bump over her collarbone, breast, ribs, and navel until she could slide her hand under Olivia's waistband and cup her sex. After her first teasing climax, Olivia had focused all of her energy on driving her captive wife wild. Alex smirked inwardly at the dripping wetness that evidenced Olivia's unsatisfied arousal. Using her fingertip to give Olivia a little preview of what was in store for her, Alex purred, "But I'm good at so many other things."

xxxXXXxxx

Without breaking her rhythm, Alex pulled Olivia's head back and sucked on the edge of her ear. She tasted salt from the sweat dampening her wife's dark hair. Olivia hummed between breaths that hissed between her teeth and leaned back. Alex released her grip on the back of Olivia's neck and wrapped her free arm around the brunette's hips, the better to give support and reach that wonderful little pebble of flesh and nerves that would push Olivia over the edge. Alex felt one of Olivia's hands come to rest on her own, pushing it urgently deeper between thighs that strained to keep pace with the rhythm Alex had set. Alex growled and immediately changed her tack, thrusting the dildo she was wielding with her fist just a little deeper and angling it just a little more forward.

Beginning to pant, Olivia let go of her wife's hand and instead reached back, touching sweat-slick skin and long, tangled hair before finally finding what she sought. The smooth leather of the collar felt warm and damp with Alex's exertion, and a shock of desire lit up the nerves in her aroused center, the thrill of her recent disobedience and the focus of her mistress's passion enhancing the wonders Alex was working down there. She heard Alex's cocky chuckle in her ear.

"Remind me, sugar tits," Alex taunted, punctuating the humiliating pet name with a particularly fierce thrust, "Who do you belong to?"

Olivia shuddered, and her hands tightened into white-knuckled fists: one around the bed's slatted footboard, the other around a handful of leather collar and Alex's hair. "You," she breathed, fighting waves of desire and effort to answer, knowing that if she failed to give satisfaction before climaxing, Alex would be… would be… Olivia gave up on the thought, overwhelmed by her mistress's insistent fingers.

Alex nipped the sensitive spot where her pet's neck met her shoulder. "And what's my name?" she purred. She sucked on the tender bit for a moment, generously, in her opinion, allowing Olivia an extra moment to produce the required answer. But when she heard nothing but panting, she snarled dangerously and immediately stilled her hands. "Answer me, Olivia."

Olivia groaned with loss, and Alex sank her teeth more forcefully into the flesh she had just been soothing with her lips. Under her hands, Olivia jerked and yelped, gasping, "Ma'am!" and grunting at the pain.

Removing her hand from between Olivia's legs, Alex grasped her pet's hair, forcing her to turn so that Alex could give her a long, thorough kiss. Then, allowing her pet to catch her breath, Alex took a moment to admire Olivia's state. The brunette's mouth was soft and slack, her eyes heavy-lidded, her cheeks decorated with a deep, pink flush. "I guess late is better than never," she teased, giving the dildo still inside her pet a vicious twist. "Now, ask nicely."

Blinking slowly, Olivia dipped her chin a little, looking up at her wife through dark eyelashes. This look always got Olivia what she wanted, and she wasn't above using it on occasion, especially when she was so very close. "Please, ma'am," she said, her voice barely more than a low, sweet whisper. Taking her bottom lip invitingly between her teeth, she moved her hand from Alex's hair and stretched it back to caress her wife's hip and thigh.

Chuckling smugly, Alex plucked Olivia's hand from her thigh, brushed her lips against it, and pressed it down between her wife's legs. "My, my, aren't we sweet this morning? Why don't you go ahead and use that hand where it'll do some good, hmm?" She manipulated Olivia's fingers for a few strokes, and then, with an appreciative, encouraging hum instructing her pet to keep it up, she curled her free hand around Olivia's exposed throat. Giving the vulnerable flesh a very gentle squeeze, she began to move the dildo, slowly at first and then faster until she could feel Olivia's pulse fluttering and the vibrations of the brunette's moans under her palm. She smirked. Olivia was teetering on the edge; Alex was going to kick her off.

Using her grip on Olivia's throat, Alex forced her pet's head back, bringing the brunette's ear in line with her lips. "Tell me you love it," she whispered huskily. Olivia's breath hitched, and Alex moved her lips down to the sweat-dampened skin of her pet's neck. She picked a particularly soft spot and used her tongue and teeth to toy with it, nipping and licking and sucking. She felt Olivia shudder and tense under her touch and grinned against warm skin suddenly pebbled with goosebumps and, she knew, now sporting a humiliating mark. Payback was, and would, for her naughty pet, continue to be, a bitch.

xxxXXXxxx

Olivia stretched luxuriously, bunching a pillow beneath her folded arms and letting her toes play with the wrinkled sheets. Resting her cheek on her forearm, she watched Alex through the bathroom's open door as the blonde combed and tied her hair back and scowled at the not-so-subtle mark on her throat. Olivia grinned at her wife's fussiness; they were finishing up what was essentially a bondage sex-cation, and Alex was fretting over the state of her complexion. Her grin widened as Alex, apparently aware she was being scrutinized, shot her a slightly exasperated sideways glance.

"What are you smiling at?" she huffed, pausing in the doorway. She stalked back towards the bed, and Olivia admired, as she did so often, how Alex moved in exactly the same manner whether she was wearing a power suit or her birthday suit. It was a rare quality. Alex pushed the sheets off of her side of the bed and stretched out on her side, chin propped on her palm. Olivia scooted a little closer to the center of the bed, the better to enjoy the patterns Alex's fingertips were tracing over her back.

"You," Olivia said sweetly, groaning softly as Alex used her fingernails to gently scratch the small of her back. She loved these moments, when there was no collar, no distractions, no alarm clock; when Alex would lie next to her with nothing to cover her body but shadows; when Alex would let Olivia help look after her. Slowly and luxuriantly, Olivia shifted onto her side, letting her wife's hand from the small of her back to the softness of her waist. With pliable fingers, Olivia followed the line of Alex's arm to her shoulder and then downward to her hip. "How do you feel?" she said gently. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"What? Do you think I can dish it out but can't take it?" With a soft laugh at Olivia's raised eyebrows, Alex chuckled and turned onto her left side, sliding back until she was firmly enfolded in her wife's loving embrace. "I suppose there's some truth to that," she quipped, before her voice grew gentler. "No, honey, you didn't hurt me. Not much, anyway. I won't be riding a bicycle any time soon, but that's a small price to pay." She lifted one of Olivia's hands to her lips and kissed the palm. "In any case," she said quietly, "I don't think that I'm the one you need to be worried about."

Using both of her hands, Alex folded Olivia's hand into a loose fist but kept the little finger unbent. "Let's see," she purred in a deceptively sweet tone, "you ruined my clothes." She kissed the little finger, folded it into the fist, and took hold of the ring finger.

"You called me 'sugar tits', and you know how I feel about crass euphemisms." She gave the finger a kiss and moved on to the next.

"Taking off your collar." Kiss. "And putting it on me," she growled, her voice momentarily a little deeper than it had been before. She gave the knuckle of Olivia's index finger a little bite before kissing it and taking hold of the thumb.

"Finally, there's the matter of the hickey. Unless you can think of a way to make it disappear before Monday, you can bet I won't be forgetting about that anytime soon."

Replacing Olivia's hand on her waist, Alex reached back and laid her hand on the swell of her pet's rear. "Based on your behavior this morning, I believe that we'll have to start over with your training from the very beginning." She held in a small chuckle as Olivia shifted uncomfortably behind her. "So, I'd advise you to get some rest now," she said gleefully, grabbing a possessive handful of Olivia's flesh, "because starting next week, your ass is grass."


End file.
